Oh Dear

By Cris M   

This heart not lastin.
Paper chasin where
Breath has no place in.

The mother shall wither.
Our goal we saw in
Never experienced hinder.
For now her carcass is bitter
I could have stopped the litter .

We feel no tears as of yet.
But wait until that morning sweat.
But from heat and not fear
Which leaves the face,
to speak "oh dear".

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