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Death, last resort of protection (Free verse) by TheVoiceless

Lay here dying can’t you see, Breathe not drawling correctly, Better call a doctor to inspect me, Call the Coroner he won’t reject me, Just tag my toe and haul me off, Lower me deep beneath the soil, For there I will finally have protection, No longer to be harmed or worry of the evil that lives.

Stephen Robins 28-Jun-04/6:15 AM
The most terrible congealed piece of phlegm ever to have been laid down under the guise of "poetry".




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