Growing painsA Poem by isiah_holmes
The story we wish to convey Tell to our children, once they come of age The story of our lives, our chaos Our baggage, our fun
No words, no written message Just a symbol, only a idol, a momentum Pass on the bullet, the changing bang Give it to your succesor, keeper of our memory They grab it with their hands, Now they understand © 2013 isiah_holmes
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Added on August 21, 2013 Last Updated on August 21, 2013 Author
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