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Melissa Hollingshed, Staff Writer
February 5, 2012
Filed under Arts and Entertainment, Short Stories/Poetry

Use to live on Sweet Street-

Turns out all that sugar  went sour

Meadows plowed down for this concrete

A weed present-no longer a flower


Falling victim-

Somebody get chalk to outline the body

Unmoving eyes-yell “Lonesome”

But skin appears Rosey-Thorny-


Passionate Drum beats-slow to faded taps-

The music is hushed-

When sorrow enters-collapse

Happiness is crushed


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