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Jul 2019
War
In my darkest hour
I throw prayers
like scraps of paper
blown by the wind
hoping a benevolent god
will want to hear them
while all around me
angels dip, gathering souls
by the armful to be borne
up into the heavens.
Nigdaw
Written by
Nigdaw  54/M
(54/M)   
143
     N, ---, --- and S Olson
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