fear’s sweet sour smell
pop pop goes another gun
slip the bad man’s soul
stealth is your nature
aloofness your well-known mask
but I pet a cat
minds struggle to think
age hangs loose upon man’s frame
death just brushed my cheek
shifting dunes of time
tick tick until nothingness
life meets a locked door
chop those weeds chop chop
pretty flowers heaven’s gift
who would plant a weed
paulette thibodeau-baker
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