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the Journey of my mind

I cannot write poetry . However,what I write, I cannot call it prose. Whenever I've shown it to someone they said it was poetry. You read and decide then let me know



Sunday 19 April 2020

Trials

Hazy
Misty
Cloudy
Wintery.

Alone in this  hazy , misty, dawn.

I  wake to a cloudy, wintery morn.


Loving
Caring
Slowly
Growing.
 
Slowly growing from that detached  being
I am now a loving caring evolved self.
 
 
 
Working
Learning
Trying
Evolving
 
Working and Learning in this pandemic world
Trying , evolving to  the new conditions unfurled 
 

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