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	Glass poems The journal(for who cares) is for my poems. They all belong to me.

	winter
	winter


Ice... Snow... Wind... Cold... All people don't like. But I'm not those people. I'm a rare soul to find beauty in everything. So when winter come. I wander in the icy wind to the winter snow. Glass Angel of Ice · Fri May 11, 2007 @ 01:23pm · 0 Comments


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