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The Taste of Death
I have not heard
The melody of morning birds
This entire summer season…
I’m sure they still sing
Delicately at dawn,
But my thoughts are deafening:
I think of your tears
And how we walked away
From each other on a fateful day
Of anger and jealousy,
A day of harsh words
And damnable recriminations!
When you feel hurt
To the empty core of your being,
Forgiveness is impossible
And the loneliness
Is the taste of death.
poem
by
Uriah Hamilton
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