There's not an evening,
Red roses never wilt,
All the dead are singing;
Songs of triumph don't tilt.
All goodness we employ.
We have achieved the peace
And everything is clean.
Near the clear streams and seas,
As we forgive their sins,
Won't think of where we are.
(April 16, 2014)
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Poetry Collection
PoetryA collection of the poems I wrote and the dates when I wrote them.
