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Word, like wind, cuts through you / Withers all but true you

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You are here: Home / Poetry / Riddles / Thursday Riddle (August 7, 2014)

Thursday Riddle (August 7, 2014)

Khalid Mukhtar · August 7, 2014 · Leave a Comment

I’ve got no face, possess no head,
Have naught for the palms of my hands,
My slender legs may walk if led
By claps that aim to settle demands
For portions of what I may tread.

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