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Willow Ward

by  pene

Posted: Thursday, June 5, 2003
Word Count: 54




Precious fragile jangling nerves,
arms that bleed and mouths that curse.
Medicines and empty rooms,
hearts lay dead, brim full with gloom.
Inhale, exhale, blue hazy daze,
coughing choking beneath the waves.
The waves of depression, swooping down,
the drips of nicotine forming brown.
The people sit, empty faced
glassy eyes stare into space.