With Final Remittance

05 Jun


Cosmic graces that watch o’er me,
and hold me softly in your temper,
I pray you, bid me this meager ruse;
let me not cry when tears may scald,
but still have tears to shed in mercy,
that I hold no sorrow unattended,
yet bear no weight of its undoings;
that my life may yet have amends,
which, for myself, be left unspoken,
but with silence as purposed reason,
let me ask of you one last question,
that, with prudence, you offer reply.

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Posted by on June 5, 2016 in My Poetry



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