Mourning over the Unchangeable

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When you think of me, remember my cold lifeless corpse laying on the asphalt, begging for resuscitation. Remeber the way my eyes used to blink, full of honesty and courage. Ready to face the day, you stand, tall and proud, demanding of amends to the tragedy on your blood stained hands. You walk the pathway of your broken dreams, begging for my reincarnation, believing in destiny, yet my volition gives me oppritunites to watch your suffer, wondering how to change my termination.

Tales and Horros in the form of Poetry by Hannah KibbyWhere stories live. Discover now