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Betrayal's Begotten

So far, they go - A distant throw - Down simple snow - Forgotten. And yet, a maid - Through crime, parade - And riches swayed - Ill-gotten. The weak confide - Then run to hide - To turn the tide - Now rotten. A dream, they’ll fade - The cuts, been made - No chance, persuade - Stained cotton.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2025




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Date: 8/4/2025 4:18:00 PM
Gets into the mind…well done! Love that last line…great touch!
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Book: Radiant Verses: A Journey Through Inspiring Poetry