Saturday, 16 May 2009
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Elusive
A fading ghost
dissipating in ticking clocks
Numb at the fingertips,
cold in the heart,
a blanket of shadows sinking
into the ground
Hide from the fleeting sun,
use your last breath and
run away.
Never to be seen again
And they won't miss a thing.
They won't miss a single thing.
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