Tiny beaks protrude, opening and closing, exposed to the sun.
Similarly a tiny tongue, gasping for the breath of water's touch.
The tide has gone and the barnacles die screaming silently.
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I have been writing poetry since the age of 13. Poetry comes close to my heart, a window to the four chambers. I enjoy sharing my poems with others, that others may relate, take what they will. So here my heart will spill.
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