A HUNDRED POEMS – XLVII

THE Smallest is a thing
no name barely,
echo memory.
Just the same such a stain
that still remains,
within my brain,
the smallest thing.
fragment memories.

::~~ ::

About EPRobles

Writer, Artist. I like to paint abstract acrylic images onto canvas. I love to read everything, and I especially enjoy science, philosophy, and the arts. I'm new to the blog experience and I very much enjoy it! I hope to learn as much about all the features that WordPress offers and thank you -- my visitor -- for taking time to read my words. Peace and love... View all posts by EPRobles

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