An act of fate.A Poem by andrew mitchell
One does not
pretend in being but acts in accordance to fate’s plans. In an act of fate. When the stakes were high and the plates were empty. One moved with knife and fork until the tables turned. Where the spoon was no longer given, the path of hunger became long. © 2019 andrew mitchell |
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1 Review Added on July 27, 2019 Last Updated on July 27, 2019 Authorandrew mitchelladelaide, AustraliaAboutStrindberg said. " When I come home and sit at my writing table, then I live.... I live, and I live in manifold fashion of all human beings. I depict; I am glad with the glad, wicked with the wicked,.. more..Writing
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