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Rated: E · Poetry · Dark · #1938792
about Shirley agusta workman,my mother
I smelt your scent
lingering on.
the sweet smell of
your perfume.
when I was young.

you held me close
showing me love,
then one day
you took flight like
a dove.

I never got to
say goodbye
I was so young
I never even cried.

I grew up with
your mom and dad
not understanding why
you went away.

I remember that day
it was cold and grey
I never saw you smile again
the angles came
and you went with them.
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