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Feb 2018
I begin to sweat,
I hear nothing,
I begin to up the pace,
I see you,
Panting I run to you,
As I begin to hear the sound of sirens,
I fall down to hold you,
I call your name in hope of a response,
I hear nothing,
Your eyes closed,
Your skin cold,
A tear falls from my cheek into an abyss of nothingness,
And in a way I do too,
I’ll see you again one day.
Written by
Alfred De Beetham
159
 
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