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  • Death

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    This night carries me away
    Like the corpses under my head
    Everyone else is sleeping
    Because they're all dead
    The room turns hot
    But i am cold
    As the days grow dreary and old
    No ones beside me
    No ones around
    As i lay stiffly on the ground

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    Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    wyckedninja666’s Poems (10)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    When You Left 1
    I Love You 2
    Blood 2
    To The Angels 0
    Never Again 1
    Scab 2
    To My Ex Love 3
    Untitled 0
    Missin' You 0
    Untitled 0