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Mar 2014
Storm on my horizon
A change in weather grows
For me there is no shelter
These cold fronts bleed my soul

If only I could grasp
The kingdom come my way
Yet I find no shelter
No matter what I pray

So let those voices echo
As the wise and mighty fall
Suffering beyond the shelter
Of those superstitious laws...
Traveler
Written by
Traveler  62/M/Traverse City Mi.
(62/M/Traverse City Mi.)   
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