Pitchforks
The clouds are low with the treetops poking above like a line of pitchforks
A rainy, dismal, day when you fight to stay above the gray
The snow is melting, but more is on the way
Questions and answers merge together in a foggy place,
no-one wants to go
Wondering why and how, certain things are like they are?
Strength emerges with truth, even anger fuels it too
No matter how long the road is, the facts still stand out,
in the distance, but oh, so close!
Heidi Sands
1/15/26
(C)opyright
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