2.9.2015 time Stamped
The Morning of the loves demise is Singing of the Part touching the ski,
almost over the top of the snow on the mountain of life its such a sight,
the valley of lives without the bridge to feel a comfort for the gift,
at that the apron of hugs come from the clouds home.
The pain of loss is a True View to this Life of disguised Beauty,
I have Scene to Truth a Million clears to Route this fact this Hem is Mother Earths,
the slate called the wheat swayed,
it was the journey for all grace!!
I cry to Note Nothing as I am Numb in a World full of Chills,
shoulders of Society kill Every thing,
the Planet Fulls to its Brim with Death on a Meters Mile,
it is the Inch that Showed the Rule was Clover.
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