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Writing, My Last
I am trying to write,
I have been writing all day.
I looked out my window and the rain seemed to say,
“Have you seen the death from above?
The ruby headed cape and the little white dove?
They are coming for you and coming fast.
Count your days, these are your last.”
I looked down at my writing as my heart beat fast.
This course I am making will be my last.
I better write with all of my heart.
I want to leave behind something good,
something real.
Something for someone to remember me.
