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Perhaps Tomorrow

Perhaps Tomorrow
By April Davis

A promise of hope beyond the tomb,
Brings us comfort with each new bloom

Birds sing sweetly day & night,
Their symphonies of calm delight

The earth arises from long its slumber,
Rain mixes tears and cries become thunder

With the spring comes morning and its dew,
Summer nights from wince withdrew

But Oh the sorrow that does cling,
Like black among a raven's wing

The winter grip begins its fade,
With springtime here, a chance to evade

The changing season bearing a cost,
forced to ignore what is lost

Sunset hues of pink and gold,
Gives birth to hope, but never told

Haunted by words we shift and swallow,
We find our way, but perhaps tomorrow.

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