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Sad Sacking Uncle Daddies
My heart goes out,
To those unknown who carry...
In their minds they can not rid,
The fact...
They are the products,
Of some sad sacking uncle daddies.
And these uncle daddies brag about their kids.
As if supporting them is what they did!
But they don't care a bit.
OR do a disciplining.
All these uncle daddies do,
Is dropp a seed to leave and scoot.
I'd like to shout from rooftops,
But to who would give a hoot?
I'd like to stick my booted foot,
Up a pooter with a couth.
But...
Who would benefit from it?
Not the kids who walk around,
With feelings dismissed.
I'd like to shout from rooftops,
But to who would give a hoot?
I'd like to stick my booted foot,
Up a pooter with a couth.
To knock some sense in uncle daddies.
Those sad sacking uncle daddies.
poem
by
Lawrence S. Pertillar
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