Golden orbs

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Golden orbs
Drifting down the road
Golden orbs
Their hearts a heavy load

In this fog enveloping me
Golden orbs
Are all that you can see
As they creep towards the church

Here comes the reaper
For the creature
That these golden orbs carry
To the preacher

On this cold winter morning
Many are mourning
For this funeral procession
Carries me, a child

~Werner.v.B
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This is a poem I wrote in grade 6 so don't judge, I had the idea when we were driving in the fog and the headlights of cars just looked like golden orbs so that's where that part comes from

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