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May 2012
Weep in sorrow for me,
for I am the child of fear.
The heart of love for the fetal home
has turned into ice and stone.

And now I run.
And now I roam.
And now I travel
to a new home.

I will be missed and
I'll miss all.
But I have to go
before I fall.
Written by
Kristin Vislocky
299
 
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