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THE CARNAGE SEWN
As this life now quickly drifts away,
I'm unable to look around and say,
Look at all the difference I've made...
Sewn is the carnage I now reep today..
The fields I'm forced to work, like a nineteenth century slave;
With only my two bare hands
under a sun of a southern summer day...
My sweat pouring down like a thunderstorm drops it's rain;
As every new day leaves, more and more pain.
Captured are all the moments that created this disarray...
Ignored was the spiraling, from all your mindless yesterday's ;
That now lies before you, like a body in full decay...
Copyright ©
Terry Cunningham
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