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Compassion Wears White Snowflakes exude with purity and uniqueness. They breathe down from the furious darken night. Snoflake tears rolled beneath her clenched fists; buried deep in black ringed eyes. Gasps of breath sputtered, "he was only 37", she uttered. Inside the lines of pain on her eyes,slept compassion; a whisper that shook away the fright from a dying man's starched sheets. The crying angel hugged away the horror and pain of many. Softly she stroked her sick friends swollen hands, lessening their ponding confusion. So many tears fell and splattered on our brown kitchen table, that a divot was made from her tears. But on the back of her tears rode a heaving laughter. With sailboats in her eyes, tacking from the wind of that laughter. While others claim, a glow that hugged her, once kissed them. Patients once met, she would never forget. Tears dripped and dropped " He was only 37. " Tomorrow would come, and she would walk, straight and tall, hand in hand with compassion. Those who know her, know compassion, and compassion wears white. |
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