Heed the tale of little Twain, a nether boy with fears in vain. His mommy left him for the sky, his daddy said she had to die. Now Twain’s feelings will confound, Daddy’s now lost and unbound. Every night he cries to sleep, every feeling hard to keep. He wishes Dad upon her place, so once again to see her face. Little does he know of love, all his dreams are up above. Emotion Twain doth try to hide, from peers who prayed that he had died. Now his troubles have a face, his actions soon will fall from grace. Little left doth Twain now fear, from his father God shall steer. ‘Tis too late for his repent, Twain hath vengeance from Hell sent. One fateful morning with a gun, he’d follow classmates as they’d run. ‘Twas once again his father mourned, ‘cept not this time his crown adorned. So is the circle of retribution, Dad’s tale now told in attribution. Two lives taken by his hand, a chance in Heaven he won’t stand.
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