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Comments about Matthew J.Baxter
The Rising Of The Dead
His world was a’ blunder,
His soul all asunder,
His heart deep in sorrow lying and popped,
His mouth in sullen sadness dread-fully dropped,
His shoulders hanging, like a slave and a bag,
His hair all bedraggled, like a little old hag,
And his eyes looking forwards, and down again,
His chest full of lead as it built up in pain,
His hands lying limply by his side,
As he laid down his burden and suddenly cried,
He wept and he moaned and he groaned and he sighed,
But for the first time in his life he gave up and tried,
He tried with his hands, and ...