Christina J. Williams

The Beat Of Death - Poem by Christina J. Williams

She made her mind up.

When she slit her wrist.

No one could have helped her,

But just cry and stare at her bloody wrist.

Her heart is now cold just like the rest of her body.

The only beating being heard,

Is the sound of the coffin being lowered into the ground.

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Poem Submitted: Thursday, January 17, 2013

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