Washed Away

January 4, 2012
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You fall into life's loving tender hands.
But as you grow, you want a voice to speak
Where mom and dad drew lines upon life's sand,
You feel the wave of independence peak.
The rolling tides of self-hate draw you in.
Its moments take you hold and leave you frail.
Evaporating hope shows little win,
As memories have left without a wail.
The drowning swimmer has come up for air.
No life line needed from maternal shore.
A universe is waiting, if he dares.
To open up life's window, slam old doors.
Though sunshine drives all gust and frets across
The pain was here, took hold, but not it's lost.

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