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Over Shortly Before It
Began
Don’t tell me, I already know -
I’d rather hoped it didn’t show.
I didn’t want it to be so:
I didn’t want it to be no.
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Too Much
When too much is not enough
dark blinds shutter out the truth:
tonight’s lubricant
becomes tomorrow’s rust.
I wake once more to find
my own self-myth, adrift -
lost all at sea, again
on a raft of misplaced trust.
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Terms and Conditions
Grief is a thief
Who with a heart-punch steals your breath;
There is no lend or borrow
When it comes to dealing sorrow -
Love is uninsurable
For reconciling death.
Eve Best
If you have any thoughts on these poems, Eve
Best would be pleased to hear them.
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