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Updated: Thu, 25 Feb 2016 05:33 am

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He writes in words, But sees only numbers. Creeping digits That whisper and murmur. Dark skies And rainy night. Blowing winds, No light left for sight. The numbers burrowed Deep within his brain. The 1s and 0s Clicking off-and-on of his pain. Senses dim, For there is no need to hear The sobbing of the young man 1s and 0s whispering in his ear. Silence falls, Whispers no longer. The sobbing stopped. He left all together. He lay there still Not even a peep or a quiver. The young man was dead The scythe had delivered.

All poems are copyright of the originating author. Permission must be obtained before using or performing others' poems.

Blog entries by Mem

Alone (30/04/2016)

What art thou? (30/04/2016)

What am I? (30/04/2016)

How do I say it? (30/04/2016)

Revelation (25/04/2016)

Old & New (25/04/2016)

Many (25/02/2016)

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Thomas Johnson

Sat 30th Apr 2016 22:42

I can't say thank you enough for your kind words on Three Word Admission. I really appreciate the feedback.

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Cynthia Buell Thomas

Mon 29th Feb 2016 20:57

Very funny picture up on your profile. Is that you? Or your general view of the world just now? Cheer up. You'll like WOL.

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