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About This Poem
birthstones in the garden
serene turns to bloody
lullaby whipped to scream
if you've ever watched
your mother die
you'll know what i mean
goodtimes are soon forgotten
friends just drift away
death roosts in the brain forever
i guess we're born that way
who is this diadem
that gives then steals away
puts birthstones in our garden
then swiftly cuts it all away
but its not for me to ask?
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