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Poetry
Top voted Poetry
#363301voted by our readers
By Mary Woodson GOLD
Hartland, Wisconsin
He laid be me, in the grass. His hand, intertwined in mine. I now look up, in the night. And see his face, looking down. He’s gone, with only dreams now. But I feel his ha...
Hartland, Wisconsin
He laid be me, in the grass. His hand, intertwined in mine. I now look up, in the night. And see his face, looking down. He’s gone, with only dreams now. But I feel his ha...