somewhere out there tonight,
there is sorrow,
hidden behind a hedgerow;

there's an emptiness,
in a soul,
where melodies used to grow;

someplace that you see everyday,
holds someone
who just can't
find their way,
who has nothing
left to pay,
but will pay still,
with one last push,
with one last bit of will;

so tonight, toss out a prayer:
it might even get there.

May 23, 2009.

Copyright © 2009, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

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