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May 31
It was night like the others
Everyone asleep
But the one who mind spiraled
So many times it went further in that darkness
Creeping closer to the edge of the cliff

A small voice begged for forgiveness
A single hand reaching out
"I have work, Goodnight"

The world fell
Air rushing
And the edge
Getting further from view

Only afterwards was damage realized
But would the same outcome happen
If time repeated
Or would it change

For a funeral or a second chance?
Writing of the Unknown
Written by
Writing of the Unknown  F
(F)   
  537
   Jeremy Betts
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