Missing

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
On sept 26 2002 a little girl Cassandra willamson was abducted from her home seince I was fairly new to the area I was concerned and followed the story gut wrenched in the outcome of the day this is what my pen blead unto the paper I wrote

Submitted: February 03, 2010

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Submitted: February 03, 2010

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Cassandra once breathed the air we share, but this morning she has dissapeared, an eight hour search landed in dirt. Her body found anandoned. The river was thought to had swallowed her whole, but only later did we really know.. That man a suspect that they knee only breifly, had done the deed and did the wrong; now we sing a sad song of sorrow- we wish the pest and aid the rest (shurly there are more to come tomorrow) how can 1 man do such a thing? We feel the pain the tears the strain and the comfort lost, to become a new cause we form and aid repent recant loose and choose wish to be in her shoes to tell het what to do. What can we say ? What can we do ? 7-o'clock will never come again for a fatal day July 26 2002.

In memory of Cassandra WIlliamson

(the next day a little boy was taken from his home and found slain)


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