A Thanksgiving from the Rarest of Candidates
A Poem and Thought
This world, this life, is a dream-state-of-being when the flow is good
Is a nightmare of epic portions when the rain falls hard
I’ve dreamt a dream where rainbows crumble and the sunset bursts
Where pigtails and puppy dog tails fall off from drought
Thy end is near the townsfolk cry from their kitchen windows
They fear the world and hide from daytime in the comfort of their homes
How comfortable can a constant position of worry be for the woman and her babies
When she hides from the golden sunrays that she hasn’t seen in years
This town this city that turns its back on its fellow citizen
People are begging for a drop of water and a crumb of food
You turn away and their heart tears into hundreds of particles
They scatter throughout their veins like a puzzle missing the last piece
Then you ask them what they are thankful for and they answer with beautiful poetry
I know you see me and I know you’re scared
I forgive your worry and dismiss your fear
Your glance and recognition I love
Thank you with all my heart, from above.
Even the poorest has something to be thankful for.
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Faith & Fruition,