Thursday, March 24, 2011

The Wheel Chair Of Despair Despondency And Death

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he waits
with bated breath
to move to the other
shore where he wont
have to beg demean himself
his self respect his honor
on the streets outdoor
he had seen good days
great times once before
but quirk of fate
he lost it all in one go
a loaded twice
took away all that was his
he wont gamble he swore
his pain his sufferings
like a cross on his frail
shoulders he bore
oh take me away fast
to the almighty he implores
his voice for the time being
the good lord master
of the ring ignores
his body rusted
his soul corroded ore
hell fire brimstone and gore

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