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Feb 2020
I was ******* to my bed.
I stood over deep abysm.
There was a morn,
Full of fructuous hope.
You brought me to life.
You showed my this world,
it came out to be heartless.
My hands were freed,
Freed but cold, dead, limp.
Death breathed few words.
Its echo murders me.
Untill last sunray is seen.
Kuba
Written by
Kuba  17/M/Poland
(17/M/Poland)   
130
 
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