Title: Acrostic. Author: littlewordsmith
Scattered are the sentiments that float About the galaxies growing within me. Lurking in my veins, cascading down my spine Sending shivers to every fraction of my body. An abundance of the heart never troubled me before, except now it is Bruising, scratching and numbing my core. Eventually I'll grow weary, Eventually I'll quit. For how Little can I do to possibly cease it? Comments on "Acrostic. "
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