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wither
I'm like a flower, losing color as it wilts.
Like a river drying up, leaving only slilt.
Like a bird flying high, until it broke a wing.
The angelic voice, that lost the urge to sing.
My strength is extinguished from struggling every day.
But I'll continue smiling, as I slowly wither away.
© chris hunt
Like a river drying up, leaving only slilt.
Like a bird flying high, until it broke a wing.
The angelic voice, that lost the urge to sing.
My strength is extinguished from struggling every day.
But I'll continue smiling, as I slowly wither away.
© chris hunt
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