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I Thought

I thought I saw a wicked witch on her broom
A silhouette against a full moon
But it was only the branch of a tree

I thought a heard a lonely ghost's voice
A haunting noise
But it was only a whippoorwill

I thought I felt a cold hand touch my skin
Giving me chills within
But it was only the night breeze

I thought I wasn't afraid of the dark
But I am

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Mary Elizabeth Frye

Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep

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