Little Bill

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  • Death

    Little Bill

    One lonely teardrop trickles down my face,
    I know in my heart,You,no one can replace.
    They say time will heal my pain,but on my
    heart there's a premanent stain.
    A scar in time,I know will heal,but will never
    bring back my darling LITTLE BILL.

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    Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    wildcat691’s Poems (2)

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