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Blogs > iSharkmeat > Poetry and Silver Sliver |
slipped
slipped in a bemoaned bewail woefully tired and all alone and agonizingly wretched and as well as gruff and also gritty and it means nothing more than accumulated gunked and embedded smut on grime left to foul and spoil all i can do to ease the hurt is weep and recall that which brought me my pain wrapped in grieve and sorrow and made me hollow but through it all my god stood tall and was there during everything and in a great mistake i didn't see her wiping my tears away comforting and calming my fears and telling me she cares and that she hears, but now i know thank you mother if i close my eyes i see you there standing besides me when i was in trouble and in dreaded despair and you was there, Thank you mother of all just thank-you for it all.... Thankyou for this air i breath thankyou for every living thing with me Thankyou for this poem i write Thankyou for the coming night Thankyou for every thing you have done for me Thankyou for every little thing Everyday for you i smoke<b> cigarettes </font></b>as a violent sea I'm coming home a day early |
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