Bleeding Soul
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The rain still falls like the pulse of my heart,
like a hammer beating as I stand at your grave;
I weep, weep still that you had to depart,
have been told by family- time to let go and be brave.
Yet, I am chained and shackled to this dead love;
and will be forevermore 'till I am with you above.
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October 1, 2019
Poetry/Verse/Bleeding Soul
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1195-424-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2019
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