Poetry in Spoken Word by Tracy Kocsis - HTML preview
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If I could for a moment
Steal a little bit of dignity
I would forget the early years,
The seeds of my mourning.
Fresh in my mind, instead
Rolling hills and smiling faces.
No hint of unhappiness,
No spiritual devastation.
The Enemy would not have plundered-
The Enemy, he would have retreated.
That cunning, snake-charmer of a demon
Would be forever tied and bound
Enslaved like many of the humans.