Author: Zuria Maylin PM
I don't write poetry much, so this is like a vent when I can't write anything good.Rated: Fiction K+ - English - Poetry/Tragedy - Chapters: 12 - Words: 2,698 - Reviews: 5 - Favs: 2 - Updated: 05-24-12 - Published: 12-09-11 - id: 2977901
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To my best friend, Hannan, who was lost in the mountains of Morocco seven years ago, without fanfare or tears shed from some important figure, but only a poem on what would have been her eleventh birthday.
She was just
But she knew
Was the sign.
And nothing else was what was hinting
Soon she would not only be
But stiff, too, as the stiffness
Comes with Death's icy
Fingers wrapping around
Which is her