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More Than One Hole
  Today death is in my backyard
  Hovering over the ground
  With its icy fingers.
  There will be no sun today.
  My pillow cries for my head
  My covers cry for my body
  My eyes cry for tears.
  There will be no happiness today.
  Knives pierce my feet as I stand
  The air is stale and hard to breathe
  The carpet is matted and damp.
  There will be no comfort today.
  The cookies on the counter of the kitchen are hard
  They were made when he was still alive
  Just yesterday.
  There will be no rest today.
  Outside the air is crisp
  It pricks at my face pushing me back inside
  I resist because this has to happen.
  There will be no relief today.
  Muddy ground is hard to dig in
  So I help plow away the dirt
  We’ll be filling it soon.
  There will never again be a wasted day.

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