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Apr 2012
The sweat drips from her face down to the floor,
She's worked too hard and can endure no more.

Her hands on her knees, she takes a deep breath,
She wonders how so many times she's escaped death.

Others suffer while she lives on,
That never stops her from wishing that she was gone.

The cold in her blood makes it hard to stay warm,
Her rage rushes in like an unforeseen storm.

The dark inches in, destroying the light,
She has been through too much to continue the fight.

She's afraid to let go, for she is uncertain,
But for the most part she just wishes to close the curtain.

To end the show of what they are viewing,
Life is not what she looks forward to pursuing.
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