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Death's Pale Scraps

Poetry By: Micheal Grey

Sitting in a classroom. A line came to me. Eventually this came out of it.

Submitted:Mar 4, 2013    Reads: 8    Comments: 1    Likes: 1   

We were left there,

With Death's pale scraps.

Laughing and wonder,

How blood fades into the black.

I called to you then.

Felt my voice echo back.

We sat and watched a ghost.

Now crushed and into the black.

New trails blossomed.

Then encroached and fell.

I lost you then.

Or maybe I never could tell.

So the days pass onwards.

My eyes cast skywards.

Missing a time.

Where each touch was the divine.


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