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Rick Rick Poem
army, bunking buds
good days, drowning deep before my eyes
never to sleep a sleepless night again
God resting every sobbing soul,
His head up high,
like a horseshoe hanging low,
I remain, lucky!
falling wounds, under my dearest darkest days
no where to go and hide
Death will find me soon,
Copyright © Rick Rick | Year Posted 2014
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