| It came Back |
|
I gave it away, every chance I got. But, it kept coming back. I didn't really need it, though. I had plenty in my sack. I'd meet someone downtrodden And I'd reach into that sack. Out would come some kindness, "Keep it. I don't need it back." But, somehow, it always did come back. It was returned to me tenfold. The more I gave it to others, The more there was to hold. I gave it away. But, it came back. The kindness was overflowing. I'd reach into my bag of love, For I knew where it was going. |
| © 2002 by Claytia Doran |
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