Blood stains every gift
coats pressed to hide their intent
I rise to reclaim
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More stories from Test and writers in Poets and other communities.
I keep dreaming. Never the same place but always searching for Daddy. No words. No sound. Just a feeling that he went East.
By Test7 months ago in Poets
His cries rise and the three older boys laugh. They yell down at him, the child, wrapped in an eggshell blanket, bundled on the ground.
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Hey God, it's just me again I'm over here overthinking like I'm getting paid for it and I'm wondering why You have white hair
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Welcome to our weekly Leaderboard update! We're delighted to highlight Vocal's most popular stories. Join us as we recognize this week's standout contributors and their remarkable achievements.
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