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Grief
March 21, 2013
The smoke surrounds me.
The fog that blocks me
From you all.
I can’t rise through,
But I want to.
I can’t cut through,
But I’m trying to.
And if you’re here,
I must be dreaming.
Because I have no one to,
Step into my shoe.
Nothing’s new,
Not even your attitude.
© Robby M., Franklin, TN
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