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I Cry

I Cry

 

I cry for the new babies. They

havA thrill for living.

 

From so small hands the

DAY is channeld.

Tomorrow has not

 

Yet

 

determined the posture

of tomorrow

 

Tomorrow that will suffer

of Blue Skies and questions.

Long after the rules are

 

set like spoons

to drunken rules.

 

I cry for tomorrows

hidden like doors

the feral cats use

 

 

No work of small hands

can stop the

 

Guns.

 

 

Caroline Shank

January 9, 2025

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Written by
Carolineshank
79 / F / Wisconsin
Published
Jan 9, 2025
Lines·Words
22·75
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