Hit Title Date Added
Have And Have Not
Scented lives that drift along:
from birth a sugared, rosy path;
pandered to and money spent,
with no thought of an aftermath.
Who lurks in the dim lit street?
Perhaps each shadow hides a form.
A crime of fearful retribution mete.
A mask of hate, trained to deform.
Woman Of My Dreams
I hear the soft cadence of your voice,
gladly saying that you are mine.
Your beauty is with me in my dreams;
smiling as you seek my hand.

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6/21/2021 6:51:28 PM #