and closed eyes.
cold at touching,
just too pale
to stand still battling.
Too late to worry,
too late to realize
that just a 'sorry'
can't make her revive.
All around crying,
'What has she done?
Hope they are joking,
is that for fun? '
But thats not a joke,
that's not for fun,
now dry your tears
'cause she's already gone.
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Comments about this poem (Dying by Gabrielle Nevercult )
- Peace Inside, Spiritwind Wood
- how far can i go on?, fareeha ghafoor
- I came to you, Gert Strydom
- The days that are past, Gert Strydom
- When morning is BEST, Antonio Liao
- clear color, Howard MacDougall
- A festival...., PARTHA SARATHI PAUL
- A Young Boy, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- GOD'S COMMAND, Tom Zart
- ages, Howard MacDougall