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Voiceless

Her childhood is a blur,
a rootless flower,
a roofless house,
a thunderstorm,
a collection of wistful memories her heart wants to forget
but can’t

Through your eyes

Hello my friend! You must be thinking that you have just found a message addressed to someone else. But if this lovely piece of paper ended up on your way, I guess right now this letter is supposed to be nowhere but in your hands. However, before I start I want to ask you a…