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Open Poetry #48
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niteismyday
Junior Member
since 2012-06-19
Posts 35


0 posted 2013-03-03 10:16 PM


The hand of a ghost resting on my neck
Pushing me to the ground
Deeper, deeper
O, father, dare I make a sound?

In dark mist I fight my demons blind
With a shovel made of gold
Fool me, fool me
O, brother, rip out my heedless soul

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navwin » Archives » Open Poetry #48 » O, Father

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