The Writers Voice
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The Glove
by
Joshua M. Allen
The glove fits over my clean hand
White and red stories hidden vast
When did this happen? The gloves fits, but no memories match
Give back to me, shouting at me
Leave me here in Bleeding County
where the birds never stay and cries are never answered
You cannot fear what you know,
though never knowing cannot be feared
Write a book on pain and hate, spread the word
Release yourself, toss it hot before times runs out,
get it out of your hand
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