Breath, chill, and sun

March 31, 2011
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Now what?
What now?
Find a way,

Alive and dead,
Breathing steady,
Laying helpless,
Upon the ground,
The life filled ground.

Take away my words,
I loose my grip.
I slip away,
Then you take away,
My steady breath.

Chilled from the night,
I lay cold on the ground,
Waiting for the sun,
Then I realize,
It will never come.

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