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I have no regard for the late hour; I wake him up. Our hearts pull us down the stairs. We read of her experience And our once exuberant hearts Now sit broken in the Bottom of our souls. We ponder words to send Across the globe. How can we comfort Such an afflicted heart? We cannot. Only He can. We type Scripture. It is our only solace.
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Written by
laurajean
Published
Aug 17, 2011
Lines·Words
14·67
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