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Pauline Morris May 2016
A woman draped in a black hooded dress
Softly and slowly the coffin she caress
She is here for the death
She is quiet bereft
The tears slide down her flawless face
Cheeks a pink rose tint, lips blood red hue, there's no disgrace
Her hair is raven colored, she is nothing, if not grace
Her healing hands over her face she places
Her gut wrenching anguished moans can be heard for miles
She falls to her knees in the aisles
Behind her closed eyes she sees every moment of this life
The microseconds of happiness the years of anguish and strife
She cries and wails for a life lived this way
She moans and sways
For in that coffin is where her life lays

— The End —