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Bearing

Two delicate, skeletal leaves on a twig against a soft yellow-green background.
 
I am barren, I have dwelled on this realization;
Since I was a small child, seeing my girlhood wilt.
 
In the dry cracking land of my childhood, I wilted,
Parched for hope, I quenched my thirst on ashes.
 
What is not there, I feel even though I may not,
A void sometimes, but other times an unfulfilled possibility.
 
Where I was planted, I took root and was uprooted.
Replanted in a tearless sea, parched parched parched.
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