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The Forgetting (Free verse) by Dovina

He stooped to smell a rose, the same he’d smelled all morning. Inner child not inner any more, he tasted everything new— delicious oblivion. Eternal pasteless now.

amanda_dcosta 9-Jan-06/3:40 AM
No offence, but somehow, something's missing. The poem's good, but I don't feel the punch as much as I do in some poems.




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