HOW SHE FELT
My sadness became agitated.
Tears rolled down my Jurassic face
When she told me how she felt aftermath and lonely,
With blood advertising it color on her tough cute face.
And she said, I cried :
About the tortuous and harrowing experience she faced,
About how she bemoaned the precarious nightmares she had,
How she beckoned on death as a relief to sue her heart,
How she felt comatose and saw her abode in hell,
How she languished alone until she became it inhabitant,
How her gaunt physique like one with AIDS,
How worms flaunted her ropy intestines,
how flies soared above her sore pores,
How she laughed, a coarse laughter,
How the sun smashed her body and the moon bores her all night,
How she acted grouchy about the debilitating acts of the interlopers and government,
How she saw life a contra entry,
Good peace chained,
Good justice, strangled,
And she saw unripe death.
Paciolo Pen Saint
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