Words
Words are the knife.
Words are the burning coal.
Long after all is gone
The words live on
And ache inside the soul.
Words that free
The clawing nails
From in the guarding glove,
And then the nails
Course hard and red
Across the breast of love.
Streak red and bleed
And print in pain
What we shall ever see.
All loving memories gone
The words alone live on!!!!!!
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