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6d
Can you see the soil softly shake
As the once-dead zombies burst from it?
They're being revived,
Though they were left to die and decay.
The ice is melting,
And the heat is increasing
Into a blinding fire.
When I finally felt free,
The dead seeds I planted months, years ago
Are slowly sprouting. (A miracle? A curse?)
The world is repeating,
Like they told me it would.
I'm terrified.
The scenes I have escaped
Are creeping around the corner,
Like now-alive zombies.
The memories that I threw to the snow,
They are beginning to grow,
Like flowers in Antarctica.
this is my 128th poem, written on 10/16/24
Written by
Emery Feine  14/F/USA
(14/F/USA)   
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