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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Other  |  House: Booksie Classic
This poem was inspired by my stepmother. The words are intended to provide a picture within the imagination of the reader in a way that might seem intrusive and perhaps a little intimidating.

Submitted: November 16, 2013

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Submitted: November 16, 2013



Her face was an ancient glacier

Lined with deep crevasses

Framed with straw colored hair

Dusted with brown freckles

Her stone cold eyes were pale blue

Her mouth was a jagged thin line

She stood like a general

Or perhaps a scarecrow

"Get off my farm!" she hollered

The sharp pain struck his chest

It was only just now that he saw

The pistol she had drawn

Warm blood flowed freely

It felt cold as it reached his leg

He tried to turn his head

But her rugged mount rushmore face

Was the last image to  fill his eyes

As everything faded to black

© Copyright 2017 samsonb4delilah. All rights reserved.

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