Forest Of Death
R RoseAnn V. Shawiak
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Needing to talk, fighting the horrid tears of loneliness,
swept back against the forest of death, no sound issuing
forth.
Collected in a vast gully of remorse, untouched by vanity,
felt by the innermost tumult of the soul.
Unable to stretch or reach for a hand of caring, knowing
there is none in this world.
Collapsing inside a fruitless search for happiness or
joy, alone, trampled underfoot, not a ghost of a chance
to live fully.
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