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and left me to die
ALWAYS AND NEVER ALONE
SARA'S POEM
SHATTER THE GREY
WHEN GRACE IS THE DAY
SHE IS THE FAIRY THAT DANCES
ON THE END OF THE QUILL
WHEN NOTHING IS SOMETHING
IN ANOTHERS HANDS
MY SWIRLING THOUGHT
MY WORK OF WORDS
SHE HAD GRABBED MY
TANGLED EYED SOUL
AND BUILT THE NEST
THAT HOLDS THE COALS
NOW JUST TO LET THEM
GLOW
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