Pure tortureMy name, handed to me years ago
- Long before I grew into myself - Was given gladly and with love Chopped and extended several times The name remains at the core Kathryn, Katy, Kate, Katie The irony of their meaning, all deriving from the same root Pure of thought Torturous of spirit Never a truer name given to the woman in constant turmoil How can a Katie settle when her name Calls for her to be each of the two Torn between happiness and pain Like a birthing mother, expectant yet fearful
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Never the roseSo many flowers that exist could be
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AuthorKatie Tiplady-Startin is a walking thought - here she is to share herself ArchivesCategories |