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Pen Your Pride

Storm

13 0 0

The ice is cold, As the thunder rolls, And the angry wind blows.

It scratches and pulls, At my heart and soul, And so the storm goes.

I sit on my hill, And see things no one will, As secrets plauge my heart.

The storm gets rough, The people in a huff, And then the stillness will start.

I know it's a lie, Though things won't fly by, How I wish the peace would last.

But I know more, As I wait for, The eye of the storm to pass.

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