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B-rich
Poems
May 2020
For the living and for the dead
They woke up, panting
To the sound of bleached bones beating
And in the fever of the sun’s light fold
bodies turned moon crescent cold
I was just thinking of how life was for other people. About places that aren’t as peaceful as where I live.
Written by
B-rich
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M E Ronan
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Eshwara Prasad
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Otuogbodor Okeibunor
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Grace
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