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Mar 2014
Unspeakable grief.
Couldn't handle it.
Had to run into the mist.
Beyond village limits.
It carved a path unknown.
Untouched perhaps there.
The rules were different.
Maybe they're waiting.
For me, Father, mother,
I'm coming...
It's them.
It has to be.
From the perspective of a 4 year old girl.
Written by
Leroy J Harris
169
 
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