And You
By SRanfield
Early morning, the sun pours out its gold, The radiance sparkles on the wet dew, The beauty of it cannot take its hold, Upon the cruel world’s grasp of what is new, That it cannot feel the shine from the sun, Its harsh attempt to see a reality, That will never be there, for there isn’t one, What the sun can give, won’t be there to see, For our own eyes to witness the beauty, In this harsh environment it’s so bleak, A reality masked through lies and treach’ry, It hardens our soul to a point so weak, We will not be able to see the sun’s light, The beauty it shines upon ends in blight. Written December 13th, 2001 © on Dec 12 2001 08:43 PM PST, SR 0 • 18 • 10
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"Early morning, the sun pours out its gold,..."