mhall4618@aol.com
Every Silver Lining Has a Cloud
Like the little children that once we were
The midnight thunder has us burrowing
Down further into the primordial covers
For fear of the rain and cold outside
Our wool and cotton caves cocoon us from
The timbers creaking through the pounding wind
The raindrops at the window wanting in
But after dawn the morning the news reports
A homeless man dying a dumpster-death
Lost his last hope with his last lonely breath
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