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To Much

Flowing like a river Down her soft skin She sits in her room A knife laying on the bed Her door locked Mother beating on the door She drifts into darkness Never to wake again

Copyright © | Year Posted 2013




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Date: 5/8/2013 4:18:00 PM
wow, this is deep,,, the blood flowing down the skin...Cara, i hope this is not you and your thoughts... it's a good poem, but a bad choice of suicide. very sad..very sad...LINDA
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things