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Mar 2014
If I were a glass jar
I would overflow with a shyness
Such a shyness that stunts my growth
Blocking the sun never letting me blossom
From the tiny seed I am,
Into a large oak tree that towers over the shyness
Like a cockroach never dying always dismaying
I will always remain the tiny seed inside that glass jar
Until the seed dehydrates into death
And the jar shatters
Chris
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Chris  609
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