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1945 (Senryu) by nypoet22

He cries, holds her cold form close. Her last whisper, "Shh, Here, hold my satchel."

nypoet22 22-May-07/4:50 AM
the image in my mind was someone dying of disease or malnutrition, with a relative or friend watching her die and feeling sorry for himself. if it were yours to write, how would you put that across differently?




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