Weep Poem by Mark Smith
Weep
Our blessed star shines with less ferver than any dawn before.
The evenings are weak with everything just so much colder.
My heart weaps with the Man in the moon and his older sister Our blessed star...
Their shadows are short, thier shines dimm, As so does mine...
Sunday, July 1, 2007
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4/29/2024 9:42:24 AM # 1.0.0.1119
