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The Path
As I walked along the way
Beside the grand bay
I searched for million ways
Lest I shall go astray
Lonely and cold
Breathless I stand before the hold
Where I was so bold
And almost got sold
The clouds herald their march
It took many to scratch
Upon the wooden birch
In sight of a search
For what lay beholden
Was not golden
But for many miles ridden
That made me emboldened
Now as I recall that day
There's nothing coming in the way
For it lies far away
...beyond my sway.
Copyright ©
Sandra Rao
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