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1st Hand.

You didn’t just grant me lessons You gave me first hand experience You raised me above other sons And it never did make much sense, I was no prodigy, No young Heracles, Going the distance Bringing new hope For your great resistance Just a hungry child Who you left to the wild -He's never forgotten The aches of first begotten.
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Written by
kj-foster
American
Published
Aug 3, 2010
Lines·Words
13·60
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