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Wednesday, June 17, 2015

Move on

Dead as doornail, my spirits are
Hunger for life, nonexistent by far
 
Threatening to stagnate, my days,
Unless mend, I did, my ways.
 
Blemished, as a consequence of past
Lopsided life was getting too fast
 
A commemorative to be erected
“Her life sapped, now corrected”

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