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By Blue Date: 2002 Dec 12 Comment on this Work [[2002.12.12.11.51.3242]] |
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Our love came through like a storm Homeless we clung to the earth The sky offered blackness, pounding anger, thunder Pounding like our feet back and forth To and From -- Soaked in the disease of forgetfullness. And then grace. The storm passed And we remembered our love again curing our disease. Our love, after all, has been pounded into the ground For millions of years: they just don't get it. |