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Rated: E · Poetry · Fantasy · #1482183
I read Langston Hughes' Poem and I wrote this.
The Soul Speaks of Freedom

Wisk me away, let me not return
To the ridden land where passion did all
except burn.
Where hope hide its face and shown
No more.

What now is opened unto me
Was once closed tighter than
a door.
Seeping slowly as the oozing
From a sore
Were the waves of my tears;
Loud like the ocean’s roar.

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