i was done with song
long before the angel closed her eyes
blessed my daughter’s brow,
and said grace one last time.
sure we could have played another hand
quietly bluffed our way
to the final exhalation of anxious time;
but then one might wonder
if the cliché of our lives would ever end,
if you would ever sin and carry
lovingly, a child of mine.
May 20, 2013 by m4u
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