Thursday, June 14, 2012


Death follows me
Closely, looming nearby
Waiting to strike
His very next victim
But it is not me
That he wants
He wants my family
Friends, and even enemies
No one left in my life
When he is done
But it is his job
And the scythe is the tool
I mourn and weep
For the lost ones
But life is not fair
And death is no different

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