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Xmas Gift
Your words are like the desert sand
Always shifting
Dry and arid, no life grows there
Play your games, the truth incinerates like volcanic flames
But I must concede that you are right
Who am I to try to hold you tight?
Me trying to dim your lights before they shine bright
Walking the same roads
Misinterpreting each other's codes
No deposit into spiritual abodes
One moving fast the other really slow
Not quite able to find the right flow
No way to let this love seed grow
Thee is no blame
And there is no shame
Putting an end to this futile game
Be young so long
This is my Xmas gift to you
No more ME to pester you.
poem
by
Monciana Edmondson
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