there remains no word to bespoken
there's no use to try to cry out or unburden
trapped inside like a captive like a slave
the body and soul gradually turning into a grave
sometimes voices better go dead
sometimes things are better be left unsaid.
The Moper (Limerick)
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A fellow who frequently mopes,Moaned, “Ev’rything dashes my hopes!”He even
bewailedA self-hanging that failed:“The NEXT time, I’m learning the ropes!”
2 days ago
1 comments:
I agree with you 100%
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