The killing of innocent

February 22, 2010
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The killing of innocent
The petals softly float to
The dark angry ocean
The flowers offspring drift
But they are not colorful
They are a mixture of gray
But not a harsh gray
A judgmental one
But it’s cold like icy water
Spearing through my soul
If I even have a soul
Which I don’t
Where the gray petals fall
New ones take their place
They are yellow
And so innocent
They seem to sense me
And they turn
Gray
The process repeats
And I wait
Slowly ruining the freshness
Of the life in front of
Me
I will always have
To destroy I could
Never
Create





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