Death Poem by Francisco Villarreal
Death
Rating: ★3.0
Dead bodys, cold air, rotting smell, no souls
Everyone has to die, don't try and stop it
Anything alive that you see will eventually be no more
The shadows of our souls will be gone
Hate will bring your time to an end, do you have hate?
Friday, March 23, 2012
Topic(s) of this poem: hate
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8/28/2026 9:01:03 AM # rel_20260827T145718Z_a0f1bd3
