The moon dips below the horizon
Returns to a quiet, familiar bed
Ignorance, the lonesome ocean
Violet clouds surround her head
II.
She dreams of a violin concerto
All strings, a sweet symphony
I dream of an apple, an arrow
And she's William Tell, sharp
Pointed blade lacking sympathy
III.
It was 6:15 AM
When my little
Lynn decided to
Take her own life
Felt familiarity in
The cold, unforgiving
Blade of the knife
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