I listen to my inner voice
It is aware, senite
Telling me a great many things
Its a gift and a curse
For I am painfully aware sometimes
When I am warned people are not long for this world
This is the last time my eyes will percieve them
And I grieve for the flesh of my flesh
Blood of my blood
Gratitude flows
Without them I'd never been born
Their life gives way to my life
And so their story carries on
Through my poetry and I
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