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Thursday, July 15, 2004


   To Cry Is To Know Your Alive But My River Of Tears Has Run Dry
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a poem

An ode for cruelty:

You withered his rose before his time should have came
Making me dig his grave with my broken heart
And water his flowers with my many tears
You took him away like many others
You didn’t ask you don’t care
I didn’t get to say goodbye
I prayed to a god who's deaf and blind
Because you took him before his time
It seems like a nightmare
So when will I be able to wake up from it?
It all has to come to a end but why now why than
It’s been a year and more and more tears come from my sad eyes
I still want to know why he had to die


By Jennifer Barany






one year this day
R.I.P. grandpa i love you


~peace~

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