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May 2017
Clouded skies like saddened eyes. These tears are heavily pouring down like the rain drops falling on my Windshield.
A blurry world behind the glass I witness.
No one is left to wipe away these tears.
I am too far gone with no more forgiveness.
All the right ingredients to reach an evil havoc.
These Wicked winds howl through this brain.
A screaming whistle from a passer by freight train.
The beginning of loud sirens in the midst of a shortening distance.
I wonder if somebody is dying or could it be just another police resistence.
The darkness is now setting in.
A dying light creates an empty space.
Vulnerable hearts go missing with out a trace.
Oh how I miss her beautiful face. The salt from these tears is all I can taste.
All i can say is what a beautiful waste.
Owen C Swenson
Written by
Owen C Swenson  32/M/Minnesota
(32/M/Minnesota)   
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   Owen C Swenson
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