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(1940 - / Carson City, Michigan)

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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.

Submitted: Friday, January 03, 2003


Read poems about / on: sleep, death

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Comments about this poem (Death by Bill Knott )

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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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