deepundergroundpoetry.com
'FLASHBACKS TO MY CHILDHOOD'
Softly falls Winters shade,
On those who stand
upon the unmade,
Not a glimmer of light,
Nor sparkle or shine,
Can reach the souls,
Of those untold,
Compressed into natures mould,
We feel the burden of her call,
As time slips through
our feeble hands,
Like dominoes,
We will stand.
On those who stand
upon the unmade,
Not a glimmer of light,
Nor sparkle or shine,
Can reach the souls,
Of those untold,
Compressed into natures mould,
We feel the burden of her call,
As time slips through
our feeble hands,
Like dominoes,
We will stand.
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