September 1, 2007
scattering, scrambling,
scraping across the ground,
shadows fall upon the floor,
no traces of humans left to be found.
doors all locked inward, no sign of escape,
hidden no more, the people have strayed from this place.
only one inhabitant,
a weepy, wormy, willful boy, keeping peace,
and digging graves, for all recent passed,
and those contagious no more.

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