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Lisa Learman
Poems
Mar 2018
Sobering
As I drink I grow more sober
Like the Tin man filled with rust
Finds a relief locomotor
When the oil can clears his crust
I do not speak words insightful
I'm not on a different plane
My epiphanies are frightful
In humanity ingrained
Written by
Lisa Learman
24/F/Baltimore
(24/F/Baltimore)
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