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Jul 2014
The end comes slowly
Time moves in reverse
The helpless become helpless again
The dust from which we were taken reclaims our bodies
And we cease to exist
The only thing we leave behind are those we touched
And if you're anything like me
You will leave nothing
Which begs the question
If one remembers you when you're gone
Were you ever really here?
Emoni Jenkins
Written by
Emoni Jenkins  In the inbetween
(In the inbetween)   
274
   Pradip Chattopadhyay and ---
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