The Ones Who Are Now Dead
Are the pictures still quite clear
Of the things that you do fear
Do you taste the air
And wonder if it’s fair
Do you see each one of them
And feel the tears you cannot stem
Are the voices you hear
Of the ones that you hold dear
Do your nightmares keep you awake
And from them do you quake
As you lie alone in bed
Are your dreams of the dead.
© Paul Warren Poetry
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