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Feb 2015
A flower will grow tall, whither and die
A light feathered bird will not forever fly
A body will be enveloped in dirt
It will decay and many will be hurt
Those people will pass too
Death is something we all run into
The stars will explode
Or whatever they do in the end, implode?
Marie L
Written by
Marie L
367
   Kathy Nguyen
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