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he knows me not in life, but in death he knows me

protect me from the madness
from the problems of life
i need my poems
i need them to keep me
he was gone when it
happened
he was gone when it
came
his gift was not found
until it was too late
he has given me
the ability to write
helped me through
the darkness
in the skies
try not to judge me
for i am not gone
feel no problems
from the lost luck
here i am
given this gift
of blessings
that makes me
me...




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