Scraping against the grain

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Scraping against the grain
I breathe my way, never in shame
A beacon of all things certain
The picture without a frame

Fighting the currents pulling me under
A struggle to take heed
Within a sea of empty futures I plunder
When will I succeed?

The uneven ground I stand on
He grasps with a mighty grace
Green eyes of vigor withdrawn
A fortitude I will trace

One voice in a crowd, an aim to be heard
Refusing the acceptance of a future deferred.





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