The Walking Dying

This is... I don't know, really. This is reflections off a lake on a cloudy day, this is people who always know they were going to die. Who didn't deny it like others. But this? This is just a part of my story.


Oh, I was born dying.

Emotions didn't pierce

My thick skin, they

Just bounced off,

Sunlight attempting

To penetrate the

Cool, still water,

Stagnant even when

The river tries to

Tell it to move. 

The End

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