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Death

Going to sleep, I cross my hands on my chest.
They will place my hands like this.
It will look as though I am flying into myself.

Bill Knott

Read poems about / on: sleep, death

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Ariel Totsoni (4/11/2007 8:34:00 PM)
so sad! this poem was so sad that it is just so dark and scarey

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7/20/2008 4:52:36 AM. You Are Here: Death by Bill Knott