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Melissa DeMedio

A broken path,

Two dead ends,

A narrow and short,

Leaves are arranged far unseen,

They seem to breathe,

Like a life so new.

Angled branches,

Whistling winds,

Hope newly born,

Beneath thee old.

A lasting rain comes pouring down,

It finds the paths and makes them dark brown,

I take a path to a new one I find,

A path that leads me to a hope that I bind.

A forest of hope,

A forest of dreams,

A forest of splendor,

Brought me to be thee.

Hold to your hope,

And let it be,

Because you have tomorrow,

And a future to see.

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