dewdrops
drip
drip
drop from her face
they remembered, they always
remembered, the dead
no longer remembered who
or what they fought for
but the rust and flowers always
remembered her.
she stopped, paused
blue meeting blue
in rot and ruin.
Wednesday, September 12, 2018
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Super creepy poem to go with a creepy picture, I like it! Makes it seem like she's the one who did it. A powerful little girl, eerie.
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