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Theme: Death Share This Page
Reaper
by Stephen Watson
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  The reaper leaned against
The frozen oak tree;
Dying from his icy touch
And counted his daily toll.

A thousand skulls littered
A thirty yard radius;
Extending into the field of corn.
Each one was once a vibrant person.

Before he came;
And touched them.
Share This:
January 19, 2013
More By: Stephen Watson
Views: 800      Comments: 0




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