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Somewhere In Europe


As the wind flows into the unoccupied room, The newspaper clippings fly for a moment And land on the dark-painted floors Never being able to fly again The room was once alive With a happy family, Just trying to survive. But now all it holds Are the laughable memories And a pitiful mess.
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Comments (1)

nicole.maff
A dark poem about a room post-World War II in Europe.

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