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Mother that wasn't

A desolate mother remains to cry
Her solemn prayer to the starlit sky
As nightlife flashes in her min,
And emptiness retaliates in kind:

She lives on in despair,
As motherhood moves on
To greener pastures of her daily prayer.
Time goes on with nothing to belong.
Nothing to fill her empty arms.
While the sand runs out in her dreams.
Written by Rayne
Published
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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