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Patrick
Poems
Jul 2014
buried
The children sit there crying
as the people all lay dying,
but all I can do,
is sit and stare at you.
At least you are still,
maybe after a test of will,
my heartache will bring you back.
Children bury those who turn old,
it is life though it is cold.
I must live without you,
you may be many and we few,
parents who bury children.
Written by
Patrick
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