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Writer's pictureFelipe

MothEarth


She stood there in shock; beaten, hurt,

But holding her children, as never,

Her tears were smoke, blood, and dirt,

She bravely endured; Wise and Clever;


Pursuing the hope to assert,

A will to allow whatsoever,

Naïve, She forgot to divert,

An Evil, existing forever;

And aching of Love, Grief, and Hate,

She stopped using hope as a lever,

While blindly observing Life fade,

Embittered, declined more than ever;

Oh, Mother, We managed to sever,

Your balance, your pride and your fate,

Oh, Time please don’t deem it too late,

Annul our self-pride, but, forever...






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