Some people only skim
the surfaces of life --
touching only lightly,
and never deeply,
from fear of drowning,
the death that can make you
heavy,
sink you from sight,
and therefore from memory,
or from fear of burning,
the death that can make you
light
like ashes, to be blown away
and gone and forgotten,
with nothing to show for
a memorial.
They are like dragon flies.
They glide over the top.
They never give back,
but always take, And sometimes,
they leave behind
a great pain.
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