It’s ok, honey
The old man’s defunct,
And all the hidden memories
Can now be revealed
In all their miserable glory
Over a cruelty of years.
It’s ok, baby,
His eyes are shut
And all the cold hearted stares
Are wasted away,
So look back
And see the treasury of death.
It’s ok, sweetie,
His tongue is still
And the hateful words
Can no longer chill.
It’s ok honey
His hand is froze
No more to touch or beat
Your virgin flesh.
Sit back and smile,
Take heed and watch
Your happiness breed.
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