Saturday, May 23, 2009

Poem by Max

My breathing slowing with each passing breath,
every minute going,
a passing death.

War coming closer,
closer to me,
I will stand my ground,
I will not flee.
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1 comment:

halogenjane said...

you are raising such men of integrity and wisdom - you can guarantee that when Nick and I start having children I will be calling you and Dave for advice!!!!

11:03 PM

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