At my highest momentA Poem by MrBlack202
When the sweet nectar is squeezed, they are no longer pleased. With wrinkled hands that tell time. They reach out to touch mine. These nurturing hands that tend to my every need, but only blossom for a season. I plead with every reason. That thou shall not wither away. For at my highest moment I still pray.
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2 Reviews Added on August 22, 2024 Last Updated on August 22, 2024 AuthorMrBlack202Gqeberha, Eastern Cape, South AfricaAboutI'm a young individual whose willing to learn and try new things. Comments on my work would be appreciated. more..Writing
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