Brother
Spring showers have washed away the winter sorrow..
They keep telling it will always get better tomorrow.
But tomorrow never comes..
And without you I am no longer one..
No more fun....
no more.....
YOU KNOCKING AT THE DOOR...
Goodbye is what they want me to say..
But baby brother I can't fix my mouth to say...
Those final words..
They where never what I thought I'd heard..
Copyright © Carolyn Oclaire | Year Posted 2013
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