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Feb 2015
My name last uttered by stoic soldier pines
they watched me devoured from under lines
my breath last coaxed by a lady all in white
of beauty she would boast and toast my sight
my head last held by a willingness to burn
eyes closed slightly I could not discern, the lessons
I held tightly from the ones I truly learned
Tiberias Paulk
Written by
Tiberias Paulk
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