Monday, April 21, 2008

a poem

why do all the pretty people die?
falling down like jericho, like empires and snow
all the pretty people die and melt away.
ruined and in ruin, all the pretty people
lay in dust, discarded and forgotten.
and the walls will fall, the children
will perish, slaughtered and stained.
why do all the pretty people die?
why do all the people die?
why do all die?
why?

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