Self Portrait

Baby`s hair

a womans eyes

the heart of a man

not afraid to cry

The soul of a lion

wandering in the night

looking for a wrong

that i may right

Sealed by angels

santified by god

my pen, is my rod

I write for one

i write for all

the gift of poetry

was my call

So if i touch you

in any way

my work is done

till another day...

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