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Janice Feb 2020
It was the night she was murdered

The shadows clung tight to the walls

Whispering of evens that left them appalled

Behind the corner the little girl stalls

Knife in her hand makes her feel tall

Taller than mom who lies on the floor

Pools of her blood the carpet absorbs

Mom causing pain has long been ignored

The little girls terrors

Forever no more
Janice Feb 2020
A peaceful, calm, and quiet place
A respite from, this crazy haze
Silent whispers - from afar
Shes too drifted to hear them call
Out to her, from reality
Her comatose tranquility
Surrounds her mind,
In foggy clouds
Protects her from her memories
She doesn't need to understand
Nor realize what is happening
As she slowly drifts, off to sleep
Never to come back
To me.

— The End —