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Apr 2016
You hold death in your hands
Shaking so much you can barely stand
Gripping the gleaming, black metal
As you think of your broken, trampled petals
You just stood there as you watched them fall
One by one they left you, now there's nothing you can do at all
John
Written by
John  28/M/New York
(28/M/New York)   
246
 
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