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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1452087
Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #1452087
Can we expect there to be silence? Ever?
The stillness of my heart
appalls me.

My bones,
I feel,
are near dust.

From up above,
I heard
crying.

I am someone's lost
love.
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/1452087