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Bryna Sims Apr 2013
We were the lucky ones,
at least that's what
the teachers taught,
told stories of
phantom children with ancient eyes
too large for their tiny faces
and we did weep for them,
their sunken flesh
and xylophone ribs
but their misfortune never felt
like our personal blessing.
We still walked alone
and wished for a savior
to come

— The End —