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Death
From the minute we are born
To the last blow of the horn
We have only but time left
For our souls to be departed
Our bodies may be decaying
But our souls may not be breaking
As we live throughout the ages
Our hearts go through pain in our lifetime
Family may be gone, yet they are not forgotten
Our love for them is like cotton
Soft, usable, and picked by strangers
For once I say death is a last resort.

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