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The wind which blows through these doors will tell secrets of structure & tales of the architecture of a human soul.

Removed from shame & whole in the knowing of faulty beams...
Rusted pipes, tear stained sheets left in forgotten drawers next to misguided dreams.

These windows have pain.
And therefore broken they remain.
Jagged & dangerous to reach inside,
Even if only to turn a lock of pride.



Written @ 3:13 am 1/17/13