'stamps"A Poem by RandallThey say they always come in threes... Death that is... But today I am talking about stamps... I started with three... The first I gave when I was eighteen... The second was given at twenty seven... I have but one left, once it's gone... You've asked for the last one... Well, of course you may have it... It's been there waiting for years... It is my last one, you know... Will I carry it for you? Of course, I will... I know, it does become heavy at times... But that's when you really know it's there... Why am I smiling... because you are........ © 2026 Randall |
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Added on April 3, 2026 Last Updated on April 4, 2026 Previous Versions |

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