Golden Hopes


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In the corridors of mangled minds,

..the stench of soot and grunge hang heavy

Away from the coaxing of dictums on race, color, love, and triumph

Here fear, pain and passions run wild

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Here are men and women who faltered; tossed asunder, in the tumult called Life…

and yet fervently yearning for the Sun – each day, every day

Renewed in the fire of grief and guilt … all parts of them, un-winged yet

In the corridors of mangled minds …here golden hopes are waiting to fly

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