Acrostic - Touch
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Trembling, I walked in a dark place holding the hand of death,
only the wind whispered in the trees and I was peaceful;
until voices were calling my name, over and over, and over . . .
Coming to a stop, I twirled around. Was I to go back the way I had come?
Hands were pulling at me and I was running- I woke up with a gasp. Alive!
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June 26, 2017
Acrostic/Touch
Copyright Protected, ID 915724
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2017
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