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Jan 2022
Piled with trash of discontent;
Pushed aside with tired hand;
Grief uncovered;
Airing out all fears;
Allowing the blue in;
Wipe away debris of dark;
Opened eyes to light of forward.
Full of all concerns
Which have ever feared;
But underneath the weight crushes;
Atop you can gauge your foe.
Atop you may climb ahead.
Atop you may see a path.
Push aside the trash of discontent.
Rebecca
Written by
Rebecca  59/F/Virginia
(59/F/Virginia)   
  239
     Ledge, Rob Rutledge, My Dear Poet and ---
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