All Capitals

 

Hey word program do

Not self-correct to all capitals

I hate being in a line like every

Other piece of poet is supposed to write

At night I listen in my sleep and often hear

The voice of God She self-corrects some long term

Error message I have repeated for years until I believe

Illusions splattered across a screen of mortality stealing my

Sensations of eternity, until that breath of Truth beyond brain

And bone opens some ancestral knowing and since I am Her daughter

It is written, on the panting openness of my innermost being where I am

In heaven but right here in the valley of the shadow of death she kisses away all fear.

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