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No More by Christo Crous

Christo Crous | November 6th, 2017 | poetry | No Comments

Poem

My old African brother was weak.
My old African sister was meek.
This was all fathers will.
What say did I have?

Strength lies with the newborn,
Yet the old still fight for a future that’s not theirs.
Give the young a chance to thrive.
Should they forever bare the pain of the dead?

Life is for the living…
Be faithful to those you call friend.
Sing songs for a new beginning.
Let the old wolves die from old wounds.

No more shall we mourn.
No more…

Poet Bio

Live to Love

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