the eleventh hour

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Poetry  |  House: Booksie Classic
living life til the end

Submitted: January 25, 2017

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Submitted: January 25, 2017

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I cant see through the weeds cause they're taller than me. Blinded by the thick I hope there ain't no one on the other side that's my enemy. On this path im on not even god can see where im headed. So blind I can only hope its not in the ground then up to heaven. But There's only so much I can control so I don't know why im stressin. These days my friends are dwindling so all that gets me through is the music so it must be heaven sent. I may stumble along the way but the hour to worry about that is the eleventh.


© Copyright 2017 George A Williams the 3rd. All rights reserved.