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Her

I'm the light-
Their dark did ignite
For spreading her thigh, I'm the lot
Fruit of the seed got

There on tilling, a choice
For two, the force
Farming, cause of the day-
Toiling, the only way

Too early she'd set out
Too young to glove for bouts
Her prime the cost
That my peak won't be lost

Though, a cub to be bred-
Yet, I, firstling to bread
Her youthful moments I choke
From her yoke - a bloke

Still not a tear for a time lost
But, care that mine's not lost
Spent her days for mine
Thrift them, so I don't pay fine

Bore me in the womb,
Raised in her room
Paved away from the tomb
So my days would bloom

Her dreams, my reality
Her peak, my beginning

Copyright © | Year Posted 2018




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Book: Reflection on the Important Things