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My Friend Died....

Look,.... flowers he said.

And as he pointed,

I saw, where poppies growed.

Weeds, just weeds...... said I.

And I bent back down.....

To stem his bloods flow.

I tried.... with words, of comfort.

To reassure my friend.

But it was his mother, .....

.....with whom he talked to, 

In the end.

As weeds and flowers swayed

Death......took my friend

While God ,

Looked on

On that day.

Giajl © Jim Love