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A riddle Poem

Forums: Poetry, Riddles, Riddle, Poem, Poems
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slur1
 
Reply Thu 25 Jul, 2013 07:39 pm
The pouring rain of argument.
Hide my face.
A fear of falling.
Umbrella like, my hands become.
There is an art to hide the blackening.
Make up, we run
To amends of clown faces. The offering.
But only proper truths
When there is no one around.
What is my singular truth?
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