Emily

Hair like wood desk 
Make beauty and wither
We all hear the fly 
The door is shut 
You have your own room,
You chose to perish in it
Copyright © | Year Posted 2013

Poem

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Horstkotter Avatar
May 13, 2013 at 7:39 PM
Nice write.
Hicks Avatar
March 12, 2013 at 1:23 PM
Hair like wood desk... I like that for some reason. This is sad. I could be reading this totally wrong but is this implying suicide?
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