Thistle Poem by Jacob Underwood

Jacob Underwood

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Thistle

I could've done better so instead I give it in tithes
I still hear your thorns brushing in the walls of the shiel
Robbing you of your heart was certainly a heist
I wish It was my neck that would've faced the sieth
But I hope my grief will leave you a tilth

Jacob Underwood

Thursday, June 12, 2025

Topic(s) of this poem: nature,grief

poem poems grief leave

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Jacob Underwood

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