when they come
with hands of dirt
from solemn sleep
so, they come
one-by-one too
they come, for all
forgotten dreams
the never-bee’s
humming buzzing
with hands of dirt
from solemn wept
a life that never lived
:: 02-05-2015 ::
February 7, 2015
WHEN THEY COME
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E.P. Robles | Poetry 