EYE OF THE STORM

Many times I did wander

deep into your thunder;

during your weekly storms

I painfully bore your thorns.

Too short was your fuse;

me you did accuse.

But years passed with tears

before I cured my fears.

Being alone felt like stone

but better than your tone;

now words that are violent

no longer keep me silent.

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TO BE WITH ME

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THE BASICS