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by Gem Oct 17, 2004 category : Sadness, depression / about death
When you are growing old, I will be dead and cold. When you are going grey, I will look as my final day. When your skin is creased, I will be long deceased. When you are a widowed wife, I will be free of life. When you are dying in your bed, I will be waiting, already dead. I couldn't be like you, So I made it my time, and flew.
