He shed his blood, he could be a donor, maybe he’s not your genotype.
I get it.
You don’t know how much he loves you to deposit his blood to let you live.
Your only work is …… to believe. Seen the way the bee lives? So busy making honey, or in your case, money.
Its morning, you can’t rise up from your bed of roses.
Povertea with no milk, lurking around like a thief, stealing.
Man of steal, judge says we sue per man.
Your weakness makes you wonder who you are.
Huawei to talk to you.
You were shot, bullets are not supposed to hurt you but it did.
Now you’ve lost a lot of blood. Eyes all bloodshot, you can’t even see who’s in front of you.
You are in the hospital and love is also a patient.
Subconscious, but hey this story is about us.
Just in case you feel alone.
We’ve regained life, someone’s blood has been used,
I mean, transfUSED into us.
Could it be Jesus’?
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Written by SotAfta
Facebook: Okenwa igbokwe
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