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Rated: E · Poetry · Travel · #1757588
A man longs for his home by the sea.
I smell the salt.
I can taste it on my lips.
I must be home.
I can hear the gull's crying on the breeze.
I must be home.
I can see the white sail
held between two shades of blue.
I must be home.
The coast is clear
like fresh snow.
Well not quite,
I am followed by my footprints.
I must be home.
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