The Metaphoric Death

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She dove like a raven into my soul,

killing it.

All of my dreams she crushed,

like a bug underneath her feet.

She was evil.

No,

she was much more than evil.

She was a villain.

She killed the souls of each of the children that lay innocent on the street,

leaving a trail of broken dreams as she walked.

And there was me.

The bug being crushed.


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