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A young girl takes a trip with her father...

Submitted:Jul 18, 2014    Reads: 8    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

Wooden boxes in the back

Houses for the dead,

Crafted by a father's hand

'Come with me' he said,

On the journey there she is

Sitting in the front,

Watching nature pass her by

Without a groan or grunt,

Father daughter they arrive

At the deathly spot,

She goes away to hunt and play

And scents the scent of rot,

She finds a box partly open

Should she take a look?

The latch is broken

Pushing lightly wooden lid unstuck,

Peering over tops of toes

She takes a look inside,

Screams a deathly chilling shrill,

It's herself who's died.


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