GaslitA Poem by Chris W.
Awestruck stolen for seeds of sowing doubt
Our loose lips cried the searing pains of growing out Received in kind By those who mined For gas to light the flame Let's keep in mind The tears they've cried And beat them at their game © 2018 Chris W.Author's Note
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Added on August 5, 2018 Last Updated on August 5, 2018 |