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Anna was 15
her future was bright
She had good grades
and was a team player

At least on the surface
is how that seemed

Underneath that smiling face
a broken person was hidden
encased in that happy shell
riddled with scars
far too numerous to count
and self esteem that amounts to nothing

The only person who knew
Well, he simply didn't care
and despite her pleas
she was left by herself
So she hurtled a buildings edge
and attempted to shatter the concrete below

"Welcome Anna.
As you can see you're dead
and I'm Death but you can call me Reaper."

Why do I get these people?
Why is it that they always come knocking and asking
everytime the same damn thing
"Oh, your Death?
I thought you had a scythe."

The world of humans sure is nice
Suicide, Homocide, Genocide and Tyranicide
If theres an issue they seem to call me
No matter how petty or insignificant
and then must name the epidemic in -cide

I guess inside their minds it sounds less horrific
than repeating killing for the myriad of titles on carnage they've created

Well it keeps me busy
and I get paid plenty
so I suppose I'll just fade to black
back into my world with my complaints
where I can watch with a pang of sadness
at all these humans swirling and falling into despair
and eventually death

I wish I could trade with my brother
He's getting the heroic deaths
And all I get are the quitters
It gets bitter and any pity I had was long gone

I wish humans would stop the pointless deaths
It doesn't solve nothing
Just makes another man, woman, or child follow suit
soon after cause they fell witness to something terrible
Its a veritible disaster
but what am I to do?

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About This Story
16 Jun, 2018
Read Time
1 min
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5.0 (1 review)

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