Squeaky Wheels

The deeds and tricks of the wicked,
Will come to an end.
The wounds of those bruised,
Begin to heal and mend.

The days of hearing squeaky wheels,
Will be greased to cease annoying squeals.
And all of the noise that has been generated,
With a lulling of the ones now awakening from sleep.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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