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Poetry

A Face Every Moment | Poem

on’t come to my grave,

The time I change graves,

I am a wanderer of lost,

Soul speaks of emptiness sad,

It wears a face every moment,

I think of you to stay sane,

Don’t come to my grave.

I can’t remember the life,

I destroyed, recreated,

Who has destructed the destruction?

Deathra, I could not feel sane,

Don’t come to my grave,

Kiss me! The way of first touch.

©sjwordsmith

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