World Gone Cold
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~ For Dad ~
Though warm your final breath
Kissed soft, my cheek in death
Thru depths that stretch belief
Are grown my wounds of grief
They weep as blood from veins
Yet bruised, this heart remains
And that soft breath, now old
Has turned my world ... e'er cold.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Alexandrine - Modified" Poetry Contest, Dear Heart, Judge & Sponsor.
Copyright © Gregory Richard Barden | Year Posted 2020
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