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Oct 2010
When darkness creeps

She seems to die in the night, 

Laying her head down to rest. 

Accepting the surreal world she 

Sometimes doesn’t remember.

It isn’t exactly a place of death,

Where she stays each night. 

Yet, each morning she is reborn

As the sunlights stretches into her room,

Acknowledging it doesn’t take all day

To find the purpose of its glow.
Kirsten Autra
Written by
Kirsten Autra
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