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Nothing to Give Her Now her face smooth, cold like a porcelain doll but, her beauty won't grace your arm at all her lips are pink, locked in a faint smile, though you lost the right to kiss them long ago her eyes now closed and every strand of hair in place but now she can't go anywhere she doesn't move and now she never will today you'll bury her upon the hill you did not drown her great passion for life though you let desire die to be your wife © 6/4/2000 by Donna Saulsman Friedrichs |
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