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Writing
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About MeWe are born with poetry in our pockets
however deep they might be. Little children grow up and turn into ourselves stories ready to sing, or the words we write to live by. We pray this poetry prayer, until our words turn upside down, and then we wait & harmony will come when we admit the story is pretty damn good. *Amen* We shall not go into old age with resolve a quiet chair rocking resting on porches of youth, chin in hand grandchildren in the front yard remind us our knees ache hard stiff, sore, sleepy. raise up, bring little things. Peace, love & tie-dye! Comments
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