Ghosts

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Never to look again at pale white skin
a shorter frame
or limbs of branches
towering.
We were lonely here in heaven so you ran.
Told me I was leaving again,
reminded me of what was to come:
A happy ending without a home or a mother,
A father or a sister.
A lover.
But did you tell me why did he make you this way?
Did you tell me why did he make me this way?
I would stay and stay and stay,
if only I could see the meaning.





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