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Tuesday, 8 April 2014

Poem: God we are stuck

Poems eighteen

Our hands are great
They can hug and play
Lift the world to new colors

Our mind is a bit soft sometimes
He can turn towards confused anger
Which can bring out nasty hugs

Sinking the world to no hope
And all the politics goes into the air
Mushy peas becomes the subject

The hands become confused
Praying to God
How did hands of hugs

Play out the war zones
Lord come back to us we need you
We are stuck

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