Final Love

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The tears she shed, tried to wash away the pain,
But no matter how much she wept, the heartache remained.
She was breaking, from the inside out.
Beyond repair, she had no doubt,
This final love, would be the death of her.
If not in body, then in her ability to love,
Which was now gone.

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Wendy Pratt

Poet, Author, Editor, Facilitator

Inking Prose & Poetry

The Art of Prose and Poetry

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