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Thursday, November 19, 2015

CRACKED SALT



Dreams of I egg year
The polished whispers that stood by i
Swayed like swallows over hills
Child legs hopping over Cemeteries
Dead war Veterans tickled by milky toes
We embraced death with smiles
Not knowing the tears coming with tomorrow

It was easy
Seeing others covered six feet below
Brave to see others bewail
For they were but not our own

Where did the strength go?
Which used to carry us through?
Bloody tears, shaped in painful sorrow

How would the other understand?
How would she know the pain?
When she has never been through this road
How could I expect her comfort I
If she knows not how to

I wipe the salts of I soul cheeks
Knowing its only I that can bear this cross

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