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Apr 2010
My tears drops fall ,
As death calls,
Outward my emotions are bent,
As the victim is pulled off the cement,
And roses are thrown on the ground,
After a body is found,
Every ****** stench scent,
Is stained on the cement,
Screams for help; So loud,
Eventually no help is found,
Their last breathing moments are spent,
Laying hurt on cement,
Numb in the world with no place to go,
Stung with pain in the winter no on ****** snow,
White Christmas is spent,
Scarlet style; bloodied on the cement
Written by
Wayne Mitchell Jr
1.2k
 
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