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Oct 2014
In the morning, the air is crisp
Life is hopeful
Within the colorful
Sunrise.

Come afternoon, the clouds have come
Hope is alive
Dwindling down to die
Betrayal.

Once evening falls the leaves kiss earth
No life, no death-
The moons light breath
(Is) stopped
Grace Pickard
Written by
Grace Pickard  21/F/Reno, Nevada
(21/F/Reno, Nevada)   
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