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Poems Submitted by Our Readers
Born to Death
I am formed by the dust on the ground
breathed the breath into my lungs and my spirit was born.
Wind and songs all around;
My eyes are opened.
I stand on the soft grass floor.
Now the fires come and burn the ground;
I run to the sea and jump from high off the cliff of clay.
My body washes to the shore
and so my spirit flys away.
Lindsay Ziesmer
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