Is It Poetry
From the barrel of the Gun life taking tears.
I know you see or feel the Sun it's warmth go out.
The shock across your Face,
your eyes grow distant then go Blank.
Back to sleep, that far off distant place, Before.
Before it was decided, You came here.
You came here and Changed your past again.
And like before, the tears lie as a blanket wet upon.
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Comments about this poem (Tears by Is It Poetry )
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(28 November 1757 – 12 August 1827)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(31 October 1795 – 23 February 1821)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(18 November 1939)
(22 March 1941 -)
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