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Rated: 13+ · Poetry · Death · #2185003
A goodbye forced by suicide.
Young life cut short
taken by a rope,
No one felt your pain
and, now we're left to cope.

Today we grieve
cleansing tears like rain,
Rushing down our cheeks
to wash away the stain

Too many years and,
not keeping in touch,
We weren't that close,
this became my crutch.

Thoughts today
can hold no future.
So, when I think of you
Please, sew me up and,
put in a suture.

Bethlynn Bowman
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Printed from https://www.Writing.Com/view/2185003