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The House Of My Soul
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August 2004 Poetry The house of my soul,
should be condemned.
The windows have been shattered,
by love.
The roof has collapsed,
from the weight of the tears,
that now seep through.
There’s nothing left inside,
but a broken, mangled mess.
The damage cannot be repaired,
for I am forever broken.
~*~ Jill ~*~
