Is there a time and place,
where our words can speak,
not through mail and digi-bits.
Like we agreed
that it'll be true and frank,
before it falls into a disastrous plan.
May this be read,
and not avoided in dread.
Here comes the end of another series of writing.
Long time has words been so full of turmoils.
Compared to that from the black book,
which is more of a 'thinker',
these messages are more of a 'feeler'.
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