Are these rain drops falling the tears of my Father, for His souls are in mayhem and I know He is bothered, He'd never send out His sheep without his shield as their armour, yet we make our own choices, in death there is no honor, but in live we have love, but which will you conquer, either one are the other for both will not ponder. and read pages not covers details get you futher and never worship ungodly for evil will conjure, therefore the Creator guides my sight, so that I may see the imposters, I ofter emphasize the past although the future is fonder
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Poetry for the Soul
Molanda L Hargrove
241 Quinnipiac Ave.
New Haven, CT 06513
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E-mail: hnirvana1@sbc.net