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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #2218042
society is the parts that make a whole.
We cry out together.
Each of us is an arm reaching for another.
We reach and snatch our arms back.
Too close, death comes too close.
Hands held out offering help, deliver death.
Wash the source of decay from the fingertips.
The face of our society is fear.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2218042-Torn