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Cold Life
Cold Life
the cold snow hit my feet,
a burning sensation shot through me as I walked,
my feet weren’t the only things that were cold,
my hands, my arms, my head, my life,
everything was cold.
with a thin scarf around my head,
I pushed on,
I needed to live,
I worked till the sun had risen and set,
my vision was unfocused,
like my mind,
And then the lights went out inside me.
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My poem is about a girl who was forced to go to Serbia in WWII, and work in extreme coldness.