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May 2013
I still remember
When I toiled the earth
From morning to sundown
Sweat on my brow
Boiling in my veins,
I'd wipe away the blood
And catch my breath
Looking upon her
The dirt that lived
That supported my every step,
Every breath that escaped me
Was a sigh for her,
And now I lie
Tired and weary
Not wanting to toil again
Given up
For I could not grow
What she wouldn't yield,
Barren death
Cold frosted land
Wicked weeds of doubt,
I loved her
Through the tears
And even then
No seed would bare
What I yearned from her...
APAD13 - 115 © okpoet
Nestor David Armas
Written by
Nestor David Armas  37/M/OC
(37/M/OC)   
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