Petals

May 16, 2010
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Petals scatter on the stream,
White and bloody red.
I wipe the hair out of her face,
Her body cold and dead.

Anger sparks inside my heart.
Sadness hits my eyes.
Fire burns inside my veins.
I shout out endless cries.

Tears still sit upon her cheeks,
Salty, wet, and cold.
Why'd she have to die for me?
Why was she so bold?

Petals fall out of her palm.
They drift across the mud.
From her hand onto the stream,
Spattered with her blood.

Petals scatter on the stream,
White and bloody read.
I wipe the tears off of her face,
Her body cold and dead.





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