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By Jack Joseph Smith
Dead Daughter
I did not call the shots
I walked out
Again across the world,
not around it
A taste in your mouth
A toe in Mexico
As if thy own were every course,.
I will never be able to say,
I saw you bast,, through that
away}, you have thought it to
many times before,, intelligent,
is what you want to remember
See how clear you let it be,.
certainily I am lost to bad weather.
since she went away