there is a joy unseen
in this gray there is green
being lowly, appearing mean
as to why? remains unseen
grieving seems to be a friend
foretelling me a bitter end
laugh a little, cry a lot
accept reality…it’s your best shot
bend a little now or break a while later
sorrow will not stay-does not hold the morrow
hope trickles in to stand on your side
your arrange it neatly and try to hide
as the dust settles on your weary mind
from this spinning that is yet unkind
is there ro...
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