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We Hold The Hands of The Weak
April 27, 2016
We hold the hands of the weak,
their faces sunken,
stomachs ballooning,
skin boud to bones.
They cry out for something they need
but can not grasp.
They watch their loved ones
waste away
then one day
they are nothing
but a memory.
The memory of their loved ones
as a living skeleton.
We hold their hands
but
we can not stop their agony
or their memories.
© Christine E., Pequannock, NJ
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