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Thin White Line (poem) by Jean Ann Donnel




Frank Black at eclipse
A thin white line,
Scarring the flesh,
engraving the soul,
wounds that seem fresh.

Dreams of that former time,
when he was a young man,
nightmares and guilt,
doing what he can.

A madman's promise,
a murderer's regret,
one man's code,
a murderer's debt.

Lights cycle a constant hum,
identity and sanity robbed,
brings darkness and silence,
as a murderer sobbed.

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