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Tuesday, January 4, 2011

this.

The sun streaked window
I found it pathetic sometimes
A curious boundary to the outside world
Trifling
Yet standing so bold
Would it be there today?
When the rain is pounding upon it?
Or when the hurricane is bellowing her wreath?
Or when the snow decided to show?
Or will it cower upon the might thunder?
Dubious. Yet insolently compelling.
I should think that
I shall never possess its courage
Its fortitude
and those fiery determination
I shouldn't be able to stand in its place
But secretly I'm praying that I'd be able to
For I am too weak
Vulnerable.
Fragile.
perhaps broken, even.
Maybe I shall one day
One can always hope.

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