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Don Specks


College Station, TX, US

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Don Specks

Am I my Brother's keeper?
I used to think so long ago.
Shamen Moons
healing wounds,
shot from hatred's bow.

They came to hear an answer
I could no give.
I offered a life
they could not live.
Sifted through pain,
Flour theough sieve.
And the wind blew it away.

I smelled so Catholic then,
Taking their guilt,
their transgressions,
pawning it off on me so
They could sleep at night.

What of my sleep?
Who will hold my sorrow?
Name the man,
Who holds my load
When my cry greets the morrow.

Weary of the game,
I leave it in-sane.
No baggage packed...
No items stacked...
I found it just the same.

Now I carry nothing for my people.
Not a hope...
Ne'er a shield...
No talismans...
I pilgrim for my own.

Am I my Brother's keeper?
I used to think so long ago.
Shamen moons
healong wounds,
shot from hatred's bow.