A hundred-year plague
is that when the next
will come.
We’ll pray for the sinners
pews hard on
our knees.
They say its a way to
cleanse the earth.
But only the bees disappear
And we’re left without any honey.
24 Poems ~ 24 Hours
A hundred-year plague
is that when the next
will come.
We’ll pray for the sinners
pews hard on
our knees.
They say its a way to
cleanse the earth.
But only the bees disappear
And we’re left without any honey.
So sad, but true.
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