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Sep 2014
beautiful, she was
with a light that
shined throughout her
captivating even the
slightest of souls

this light was
something that many
only saw a glimpse of

(and) those few who
shattered the wall of glass
saw a part of her that
could not be described

but, just like any light
one day
it must come to an end;
dim, dull, and burnt out

and that day -for her-
came earlier than most
but, God, for those
moments that her light
shined the brightest
she was beautiful
people call me swatz
Written by
people call me swatz  London
(London)   
282
 
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