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Rated: E · Poetry · Death · #2083154
I wrote this at 14 years old, its about our loved ones being around even when they're gone
I'm the words upon your breath, I am the black and white.
Im the blood that's in your heart, and the pen you use to write.

I'm the fingers on your hand, I'm the pillows on your bed.
I'm the whispers in the wind, and the hair upon your head.

I'm the moisture in the air, the sunshine in the rain.
I'm the water in your bath at night, I'm the pulse found in your vein.

I'm the grass down on the ground, I'm the twinkle in your eye.
I'm the timer on your clock, and the clouds up in the sky.

I'm the wrapping on your gifts, I'm the sparkle on your car.
I'm the heating in your home, and I'm everything but far.

I am the lights in dark, I'm the yellow in the stars.
I'm the colour in the world, and the writing in your cards.

I'm the flavour on your crisps, and the author of your book.
So if you do not think it's me, just take another look.
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