Poor Climber

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A Little About Me


Future

I know not what the future holds;
Nor what my soul was foretold.

Tucked away in time’s folds,
Beneath the darkening mold.

Only one can be so bold;
To whom my heart is sold.

Not for anything so cold,
Bought by blood, warmer than gold.

Only He, my future holds,
For He alone,. Is of old.

cSm


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