Anchor

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Hemingway

Anchor

Running out of words.
writers' block. running out of reasons.
these tired eyes seek a place
to rest from the downfalls they've witnessed.

I fought sorrow with these beaten fists.
I've come to learn time won't heal a thing.
I've cursed the skies, I've cursed the sun,
For it's been burning me alive.

Let the skies open up
So the rain can remind me of who I am.
Let the sound of the earth drain the outside world
And give shelter to my mind.

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