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Gone

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You're gone with the wind as they say.
Every minute now stretching out into a day.
Movement in slow motion, time might just stop.
I'm frozen in place, imagining the gun pop.
But it never fires, it drops on the ground,
I feel like to the earth I am bound.
To wander around, a lost soul for life.
To comfort those in need, while moping in my strife.
I have a purpose, but it is not for me,
The purpose is to go on living, so others may see
That they have a purpose, each one just the same.
That they have a purpose, a part in this game.
They may not win, in fact no one will.
But at least they'll have made sure that those after them will.



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Jadafunk said...
Jan. 7, 2012 at 12:06 pm:
I really like this it is a very true poem...... short but packed with feeling. :)
 
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