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Not our Names
June 4, 2012
Pronounce me Dead.
Pronounce her Broken.
But those are not our Names.
We are sisters,
Forever we will remain.
For I am
Dead, and she,
Broken.
Lying in a pit of
Confusion.
We strain to see the sense
Of life, of death, of everything
In
Between.
She calls me Dead,
I call her Broken,
But these are not our names.
© Hope A., Merrillville, IN
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