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A world once beautiful,

Now dreary and pained,

The grass still grows,

But dead the living stay,

Trees aech up to touch the sky,

 And down to reach the river's underside,

The flowers are quaint,

The wind running by,

 Trying to drown the deads screaming cry,

A heart once beating,

Now pierced and dead,

Bleeding and broken,

The once living said,

"My heart is still beating,

And yet here I stay.

Waiting and hoping,

To live just one day."

This poem is about: 
Our world

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