Papa Crutch

Scattered Pearls

Tracks in the sand mark a line of remorse
For a life derailed from a chosen course.
As we plead for exclusion with sweet sublime
And rapidly make mention of a wounded mind,

As we seek for exception with spurious plea,
And lay claim to a heart full of despondency,
The sigh in our voice shows a careless regard
For emotions grown cold and conscience chard.

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