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Dry Vale of Tears
Dry vale of tears ... color blind soil,
where poor and rich labor and toil
Souls bound by mortality’s yoke,
plans buried by a shovel stroke
Time was the fallow reaper foil
Womb roots wither, the dire worms spoil
Dry bones be pauper and royal
Fretting skies do mournfully soak
dry vale of tears
Sad thoughts of fear now famine roil,
seeds of depression sour the soil
Death was the reign that evil spoke
Dust to dust always coffin cloak
the misty pain that heartbreak boil
dry vale of tears
Copyright ©
Freddie Robinson Jr.
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