Valley Of Red
R
Randy McClave
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The Valley of red
Was once my Valley of green
Before, the killings took place,
No longer do birds fly overhead
For they can’t, rest their heads.
The trees are all gone
And so are all the hills
They are now, barren fields,
So now the Valley of red
Is my Valley of green
And that, now is my dream.
Randy L. McClave
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