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Poetry

Please read and enjoy these submissions!

Remember to take note of the code (poe1-poe39) and to vote here for first place, here for second place and here for third place.

poe27: The Gate

Life ends right there at the gate
It is left with the uniformed guard
Who hands over my papers
And waves me through.
He won't even see the crumbled up bundle
Of hopes and tears;
The little heap of dusty emotion:
My life.

It'll lie there next to all the trash
Others have left there
It'l sink into the ground
Become part of the dust
It'll cling to your windshield when you leave.

And I do not want to leave
Cannot leave
With my bundle
again.

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