I made
a cross
tried
to carry it.
Even
had a
whipping
along
the
way.
I did
this to try
and
see......
what
if it had
been
me.
Never
made
it
past the
front
yard.
Placed
the cross
in
the ground.
Stood
and looked
the
tears just came.
How
could they?
I
ask.
More
tears.
Does
man ever
change?
Robert H. Green ©1999
Today
I cried
Dreaming
Just
one more time
I
am me
Many colours
Rob's simple
poem
Our mother
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