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Jul 2013
The death of one is tragedy, but someday maybe happily I’ll pass.
The difference between us acts like a cement wall holding ashes of the ******.
Maybe someday happily I’ll pass.
Maybe someday I’ll fall from the sky.
I’d let go from anything holding me and just fall.
Dead weights and dead bodies.
Small Hitman for hire.
Just dangling by a rope.
From the closest Silver Maple.
Leaves stained with blood from the wrist.
Maybe passing is better than living
Losing my mind.
Losing my voice, I cry.
Screaming in my mind.
Where did you run off to, my friend?
Losing my will.
Losing my faith, I die.
Sky turning black as night.
My little friend, I’ll never see you again.
Amy Harris
Written by
Amy Harris  America
(America)   
781
   martin
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