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tanka (Remove filter)

No More Hellos

The phone rang again

She hesitated once more

To take the call now

Would prove that she is not strong

She knows well what he will say

 

She lets it ring on

Becoming deaf to its sound

As he did to her

Knowing she should not engage

So she lets it ring

 

Eventually 

He will come to realize

What he had was not

The kind of love she needed

The phone rings, ...

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tanka

The Moors

Grey fog wisping 'round

Not a sound or sight to see

A slow envelope

Folding down upon the land

As night creeps into the moors

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tanka

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