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Death
I was bored.
It comes for us,
No matter whom we trust.
We try to flee,
But it comes to see.
We try to run from it,
But it’ll come still yet.
We are scared of it,
Yet I long for it.
The end is near,
But it won’t be here.
How do you like it?
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By
Ben Ryan
Published: 8/24/2010
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