The Road


I see these strangers walk
But I cannot talk
For my path is lost.
What is to come from my loss?
On the ground, I curl

Waiting for the cure.
As I wait in sorrow
And hoping it be tomorrow,
The cure is being made
To make a brighter day.

I rise up from the ground
Because the cure has been found.
With these strangers I can walk
And so I can talk.
With my head held high

I look and smile at the sky,
But the year is done
And my friends became none.
Now it is time to go
What characteristics will I show?

In the years I have grown,
And I should have known.
All good things come to an end
When will my suffering bend?

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