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Rated: ASR · Poetry · Death · #918254
Story of how I was feeling on a bus ride home one day.
Death

You're there, I know;
Lingering, waiting,
Ever so slow.

Why do you linger?
Why do you wait?
Take me away from anger and hate.

Come to me, Angel,
Glorious Death,
Take my life;
Steal my breath.
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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/918254-Death