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Rated: · Poetry · Death · #907709
About death.
I saw him
sitting there
draped in humility
A tarnished crown of Democracy
placed upon his head
One shinny jewel emitting truth
for all to see
what could become of you and me
if we had journeyed into Hell
and never made it back to tell
Of mirrored hate that dances
amongst young minds that have no chances
Of demise dressed in it's best
Of a place where death can't rest
Of decay that eases pain
Of the scattered bullet-rain
Shattered bones and currency
Complicated trivialties
Moistened lips and eyes that bleed
Future days no one will need
Dirty faces, missing lips
Catch the answer as you drift
into Bold Oblivion
He was Father
He was Son
He was Brother
EVERYONE!!!

I see him
Daniel Pearl
Martyred
Murdered

Right before my eyes
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