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The Numerologist









‘Number 9?!’ she said, a frown on her face

Twirling the edge of her frayed lace

She clicked her tongue and pinched her ears

My future dangling precariously, my eyes fill with tears

‘He’ll take you away from your own” her voice hissed a dark warning

‘If that’s all, I’ll hold onto him and my own too,’ I smile, thinking

Twenty years’ later; here I am – alone

He loves me dearly, I have nought to moan

For all those that left

None did leave me bereft –

The troubles, the pain

The fears all in vain

Her words ring loud in my head

‘He’ll take you away from your own,’ she had said

I smiled then

I smile now -again

Numbers just math

really; hath

no story to be told

‘Aint no mirror to a soul!


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