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Mumbling too loud to Death

7 months ago · 1 · poem, +3

204

I looked Mr Reaper in the eye,

like to the trees of people I couldn't.

And spoke of words that I-

of what the forest wouldn't.

And words of mourn and pain had left

my mouth in such a blur

I could not catch them tumbling,

tumbling, caught in the hands of Mr Reaper.

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Jordan · 5 months ago
I pray that you find hope in your darkest time, because that is where it shines the brightest.
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