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suicide poetry

do you hear the rain?
so lost
with joy and wonder
for truth, for love
i make my shroud, but no one knows
melancholy days have come
little gate was reached at last
my son is dead and i am going blind
he'd even have his joke
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
glooms of the live-oaks

 



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Second Mortgage

December 2007 Mortgage News

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