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The World Has Been Cruel to You, Yet There Is Still Beauty and Meaning That Comes from You as Well
The wind has bruised your tender face,
And winter wrote upon your brow—
Yet in your eyes, I still can trace
A fire the world could not put out.
The stars have watched you weep alone,
Their silver light a cold caress,
But from your soul a song has grown
That sorrow could not quite suppress.
You move through thorns with quiet grace,
The petals fall where you have bled;
And though the dark has left its trace,
You cradle hope where others fled.
The world was cruel—but in your wake,
A softer truth begins to break—
A light no storm can overtake.
Copyright ©
James Mclain
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