A Fresh Beginning
Sunny day, hazy skies
Thoughts of love trapped in sorrow
Fill the pregnant skies
It’s almost time to make hay
Once again we hope we keep
Enough gas for each day
Lest we pass out and fall
Into fine pieces, again and again
It’s time to eat and grow strong
It’s time to build the bones
For the great work at hand.
Copyright © Bernard Brakatu | Year Posted 2008
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