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Ledger

Hither where my soul lies dying, throttled by the winds of change, hobbled by the wrath of ages till nothing but a gasp remains, there abides a wisp of pity tempered with a shred of grace, an iota of compassion on this saint/sinner's face. I'm not meant to meet my maker till I've done what I must do to set the ledger book to zero, clear my credits, debits too; then will I be granted access, pity, grace, compassion nixed, I won't need exoneration, all my feats and foibles fixed.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2006




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Date: 11/16/2008 4:07:00 PM
Wonderful title for this poem. Good message. A lot of truth in your words. I expecially like the third stanza. Thank you for sharing this enjoyable poem with us and for your kind words regarding my haiku. I appreciate your clarification on my earlier comment and the chance to learn something new. Karen
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things