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place to store poems and ideas
poems, begginings of storys
i walk into the room to see what i'll find
and what i find is not kind
its dark, its cold, its black and red
the blood of the others, the smell of the dead
i look around, my eyes burning
tears of pain start spilling
the little children all lie dead
the adults lie dead on there bed
the stench of death lingers in the air
it's not just! it's not fair
the children dead without a future to look forward to
the childred dead, the adults slew
i close the door and shut my eyes
one last prayer for young lost lives






User Comments: [4] [add]
oopvcp[fdo[s
Community Member
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commentCommented on: Wed Feb 01, 2006 @ 08:20pm
well...how interesting. It seems that we have a new Edgar Allen Poe here.


commentCommented on: Thu Feb 09, 2006 @ 11:54am
Good stuf I like it.



Heretical Disciple
Community Member
Shahmirzadi
Community Member
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commentCommented on: Sat Feb 11, 2006 @ 12:19am
It's Beautifully scary


commentCommented on: Sat Feb 11, 2006 @ 12:19am
I agree with b_man10000!



soopspoon
Community Member
User Comments: [4] [add]
 
 
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