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Fly With The Angels

There are many dark shadows of lonlyness,
that are locked behing a wooden door
but there are many bright kinds of kindness
that creep through the cracks by the floor.

When you turn your redden cheek for another slap.
Make sure you proud chin is raised high.
I will come and craddle your head in my lap,
and hold you in steel arems while you cry.

I know your heart and body is broken,
and each ragged breath you take hurts with pain.
My handkercheif is stained with blood thats forsaken.
and you hope of living is a broken chain.

Your last breath has been taken and ment to be.
I hope you fly with the Angels, your finally free.

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Robert Frost

Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening

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