The devil owns the question mark
He wields it like a sickle in the grass,
Hacks contentment, severs my resolve
With all the slicing questions that he asks.
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My Savior edits quietly
Slashes the sneering curl with crimson pen
Attracted by the title, I opened this poem. The depth of meaning speaks to the soul. Thank you!
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My Savior edits quietly Slashes the sneering curl with crimson pen Attracted by the title, I opened this poem. The depth of meaning speaks to the soul. Thank you!