Tattered Hearts This work is considered exceptional by our editorial staff.

October 7, 2010
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Sometimes when I’m all alone
I feel a hand against my face,
Like nothing I have ever known
I close my eyes and see your face

Soon, the feeling fades away
And I am left with just a trace
I wish the hand would stop, would stay
Gently moving o’er my face

Then I realize what I felt
Was just a scrap of tattered lace
And the musky scent I smelt
Was just a moldy pillowcase

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Alyssa S. said...
Oct. 20, 2010 at 1:17 pm
awww. thats sad... but good!
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