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Wednesday, March 24th, 2010 11:03 pm
You are written in a language
   I don't recognize.
Though you fill my life with music,
   I can't harmonize.
All the depth of all the ocean,
All the grace of Heaven's motion,
You possess, but I've no notion,
For your brightest shining barely
   Penetrates my eyes.

I am crudely sketched in pencil,
   Faded with the years.
I am scribbled in the margin,
   Blurred by private tears.
I have joy, and love, and passion,
I have beauty in my fashion,
But I've drawn a shorter ration
Of the means to bring them out from
   Underneath my fears.

I am locked within my prison.
   Will you set me free?
I am lost, confused, and frightened.
   Will you comfort me?
I am here, but I need tending.
I need help, and time for mending.
If you have the strength for lending,
Hold me close and say you love the
   Person I can be.
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