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Shuffling about and mumbling

but often arriving early,

his presence is consuming

dark, brooding and burly.

Even for those prepared

he shows up unexpected,

smearing salt into the wounds

of relationships neglected.

Suspicious shadows precede him

and linger long after;

allow a smile nearby

and he’ll make guilt out of laughter.

In the cloudiest or best of days

he attracts a solemn crowd.

In spite of his equity,

Death should be not proud.

#death #shadows #dark #poetry #peace #poem #panic #Anger

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