my first critic my mother
now my verse infused with her
she sits in the wheel chair
shrouded in her mind
we cannot break through
she rests now on my mind
fade in her mist
now my verse infused with her
she sits in the wheel chair
shrouded in her mind
we cannot break through
she rests now on my mind
fade in her mist
posted by Thomas Thomas at
3/01/2007
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