Change
I see the smoke exiting my lungs passing my lips, barely there now.
I feel the change coming over me.
I battle I must face.
My combat has commenced.
I will no longer sit on the fence.
I say farewell to friends.
Friends who are going to war.
I will pray rosaries for you.
I will go to your funerals.
But now I turn my back and walk the other direction.
I have my own fight to fight.
And I have my own light to light.
Copyright © George Gabriel | Year Posted 2010
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