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Dec 2010
There is a despair of sorts,
Of which no one can tell.
When a soul fails to breathe,
And dies to certain hell.
Elongated and underlived,
Monotonous, empty, vain.
Joyless, careless, hollow,
And filled with only pain.
deanena tierney
Written by
deanena tierney  47/F
(47/F)   
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