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I write poems from God.
He gives them to me.
I write them down,
and then pass them around.
I write a lot of them,
more than most can read.
Many confess
they can't keep up.
I'm sure.
Think about it from my end.
Everyday.
Often more than once a day.
They just keep coming.
And coming.
But I can't complain.
Why would I?
They're gifts from God.
I won't stop
'til His last breath
courses through my
heart.
See this poem @ His
Newsman |
