Natures Tears
B
Bill Cantrell
0
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What one might think a misty fog
is nothing more than tears
A tree is weeping while looking at the fence,
his brothers lost throughout the years
He know his time will come one day,
wondering what his grave will be?
To keep one warm or a piece of fence,
thinking, who will weep for me?
Soon the fog will go away,
with the rising of the sun
Tomorrow with the coming dawn,
his tears are dripping one by one
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