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NOT MUCH BUT WEENot much but wee Bit of space I need Of my maternal weed Before my being ceases Long before time really was None but God only was His being brought cause Of all that is, and of cause Even that which no one knows To know one needs not see Like the river has had no eyes ever Yet its course it does not miss If you thought life is for the clever Take care its only folly you endeavor Those days I was at yet But I know of a weed That lived among the least Whence no one ever great Yet one another ever they dare'nt In spite that days were ever wet So in those days the weed lived But bore no seed but one Only that time when he had to give To land what was it's own And to God like wise Then we could call nothing out of him So of him was left the seed No wonder they call her Sidi Thriving was necessary her need To save her breed of cease And her strife did God heed So she became a seed indeed. Poetry Ad-Free Upgrades Vote for this poem
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