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Poetry By: poewhit

Tags: Poetry

back then

Submitted:Mar 19, 2013    Reads: 4    Comments: 0    Likes: 0   

Modest stoic maiden, keeper of the door.

Master paid gold like others before.

GOD in heaven is my salvation.

BUT - when he calls, tribulation.

Secrets, I can not tell you, happen.

The door closes with a part of me.

From a child, I keep the door clean.

Master is a cotton, tobacco man.

Brought my parents from another land.

This is all I know GOD and a door to keep.

At nights my tears, they do speak.

[from 8hop.com 2007 ] POEWHIT 2013



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