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Oct 2020
I crackle through dead leaves
Layered over dry, green grass
Hands in my pockets
Making sure not to trip
I crouch in front of a stranger's grave
A rough, stone reminder
Of a soul lost in time
I read their name aloud
And I let them know they're not forgotten
October 5, 2020
Henry
Written by
Henry  20/M/Chicago
(20/M/Chicago)   
  377
     camps, vivian, Ayesha, Chris West, J J and 4 others
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