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Image for the poem Dead Tree

Dead Tree

I found
In the wake of things
Its like sifting through snow

In worries I can keep my word
In furrowed brows I'm an expert

A smile is the last thing I think of.


I will erect this monument
To get paid.

I will erect this monument
To be me
Finally.
Written by Her_sunshine
Published
Author's Note
In the forest
There is me
In the forest
Where could it be

Here
Nowhere
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