child death

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Dark places No sound Was this my familiar bed and place? Or was this new and strange. Only smells and touch to tell me I was restrained to my bed For I was unable to grow. I was loved
I hear the sound of water,      gurgling, flowing, breathing with life The sound of water slapping stones,      pushing past the verdant reeds I hear the water join the song of a child,
To the 2 yr old boy unresponsive from the accident on the 215 highway Laying at umc Your mother is in front of the chapel On her knees
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