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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1872835
This is a free verse poem that I wrote after the death of my grandmother.
She sits on hills of clouds,
Hair blowing lightly.
A smile,
As bright as the morning sun.
She dances on streets of gold,
Painlessly.
She Twirls,
With arms stretched wide.
She rests her pretty head on air.
Wings fluttering slowly.
Without a worry,
Without a care.
Beautiful,
Happy,
Free.
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