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Tuesday, March 27, 2018

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Ocean Wave

To much to soon, too little to late.
No rush to swoon, so fiddle by the lake.
Feelings of despair, absolutely nothing I can repair.

Lost in the depth of thought and gut rot.
Cost of sin wept school taught tots.
Oh merciful, I be so distraught.

Gold mines, coal mines.
Dark tunnels buried deep.
So strong as to make tea weak.

This wish is my dilema.
How to justify.
How to rectify.
How to make my reeling set aside.

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