~The H Word~ by Hazel Urquhart
"Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood" ~ T.S. Eliot
The sunrise held no warmth,
colours faded to black and white,
things which once evoked such joy,
now felt jaded and contrite.
Her heart was weighted in her chest,
devoid of love and tenderness,
its walls were thick with disappointment,
along with regret and loneliness.
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~The H Word~ by Hazel Urquhart 
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