Words.

Rough for the dead 2.

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Before Hell stands two doorkeepers,
and once a year, I
burn billions, billions and billions
to bribe them.
If I could buy my way
to Hell,
I would hold you by the hand
and I would lead you back
up to mortal life,
never ever looking back once.

Written by Gogo

March 30, 2008 at 8:13 pm

Posted in Poetry

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