Trust God. To work in mysterious ways
has always been a cautionary tale
eliciting moments of tragedy.
Reality questions what someone says
and doesn't take their word at face value;
if not, my brother has some land for sale
nestled deep in the Everglades, petty
bitter squabbles over inheritance
obviously could never devalue
works in mysterious ways, feel the pinch.
Bitter almonds, the scent of cyanide
realized in the Blues, to watch her flinch
in her last days, medicine steals her pride
diminished by a tumor, our last chance
gave me pause to recollect the good times
ever since I could read between the lines.
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