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Growing Piles
Bliss comes
Bliss goes
Another thorn
From a faded rose
Once taken in with joy and smiles
Now thrown in pain on growing piles
Sometime maybe
Somewhere baby
Will we meet once more
Sometime baby
Somewhere maybe
Will we manage an encore
Just now the fog
is no memory jog
Of how this came to be
A break felt oh so painfully
Once days were filled with joy and smiles
While the washing up just grew in piles
Sometime maybe
Somewhere baby
We will meet once more
Sometime baby
Somewhere maybe
We'll manage that encore....
(c) Rhumour
January 9th 2010
poem
by
Dave Dunn
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