He stood by me in every little way
Kissed my bruises when I fell down on my knees,
He carried me when I am tired to walk
And fed my soul with his golden hands.
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In sunday grace is such her breath are thanks for they who braved the stormy oceans grave in deep felt waves....iip
I like the message of this poem as it reminds me of my father whose memories keeps on lingering in every thoughts and bests I have even in my dreams as I missed him each passing day. Great piece.