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Well of Sorrows
 

I live in a well of blackest sorrows
that color all of my tommorows
Webbed in hurts I cannot forget,
they plague and haunt me yet

Just when sleep takes me away,
dreams come of some awful day
Some fist that comes from hell,
adding to the sorrows in my well

Children who ostracize me
for loving a man as evil as can be
Their memories darkened and cold
accompany me as I grow old

Crippled, bound to a wheelchair,
I pray I will wake and see them there
Faces longed for, but not once seen
play on an old womanís screen

Soon I will die and Heavenís arms
will soothe me from my lifeís harm
Maybe I will dance again in joy
when I see my sweet girl and boy

By WolfPoet

© 2018 WolfPoet (All rights reserved)

 

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