jacqueline amos The thief that stood at the back door; To claim a inheritance, humble watch it reverse. The spoken words that flow from the heavens, Which we take no glory are form, beware of the devil he is swift and calm. Who sales to the devil ; Flea markets of death, as the holder of the inheritances, throws it away. I stepped from my cell's confinement the hell that sits upon my feet. Humbly I speak, God protect me from my self, |