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  • Writer's pictureSophie

Day 419

Through the door

Where lies a window pane

Across the hall

Spelling of rain

Rooms are left barren

For years to come

Ghosts remain

Yet they aren't glum

They roam the halls

With no clear task

They go through their lives

Without wearing a mask

So without knowing

What lies ahead

Who is more alive

Living or dead?

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