Inflicted Saddened Days Of Colded Scolded Worst. - Poem by Michael Gale
All rows of corn destined not bourne...
To this i vow that all be it sworn.
Have at thee this Sunday School best...
For of the moral warranted test's.
Planted kisses upon thy willowed swillowed thirst...
Aurtumned Sun injects highest brightest burst.
Inflicted of days of scolded colded worst...
Let lesson's of life be wisened and first.
Autumn Sun radiates a warmth and vast blanketting gladness...
For soon to be will death come to pass it's ever stretching sadness.
What is to be seen of all this mounting madness? ...
As i tug on the many different strings of the unstraightened jacket
and all it's unloosened fray'ed thread...
My soul must keep this saddened breath hath starved many stains
of misled and memories bled.
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