February 16, 2012
he lay on the coffee stained couch
curled up in a scrap blanket.

his eyes were closed
and I counted his eye lashes.

he had crumpled brown hair
a silly half grin was splattered about his face.

his hands were gently grasped around
an imaginary teddy bear.

he was peaceful and delicate
slipping from the hands of reality.

his dreams are unknown
like his thoughts.

he breathed in a sweet scent of orange
letting the zest swirl into him.

his life was taken into the hands
of those who protect the innocent.

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