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Monday, May 12, 2014

My turn


It is my turn to ask
That you light a fire for me
So I can see it from far away
From this mountain peak
Where I sit awake
In the dark night of the soul.

It is my turn to ask
That you say a prayer for me
So I can feel it’s whisper
On my fingertips
As I grab a tear in my fist
To keep the inner wood moist.

It is my turn to ask
That you sing your song to me
So I can finally fall asleep
And dream of a place
Where others like me thrive,
Not merely survive.

A place where I belong. 

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