Our Words Tend To Reap The Frigid Wind Of Sorrow

brooklyn6timesplus

Our words tend to reap the frigid wind of sorrow 

When we do not make ourselves clear 

Anxiety tends to rear its ugly head 

Some people often hide themselves in fear 

But, we can not lose hope 

We need to obtain that fire 

Have the drive, ambition and precision 

To reach even higher 

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