the day the world ended
the stench of death filled my lungsand everything
stopped.
at first,
i could hear the sound of a trumpet
as if in the distance -
but then
it died
i remember a fairy once
whispering a tale in my ear
that the world kept turning
but i couldn't bring myself to believe it
Poetry by Thomas Perdue

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Written on 2012-08-31 at 04:13



