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I saw a spectre on the road
carried along by Pride, as by wind.
It wrapped itself tight
in delicate fabric
meticulously woven with the lies
it spins at each hour of the day—
lest it betray a nakedness
with caustic truths of decades past
seeping from the sores
of its unforgiving heart.


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The following comments are for "The Spectre"
by joenuts

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