Hope For A Good Day
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Sitting at the edge of dry, hot desert
Waiting for the clouds' thunder alert
A pair of distressed eyes with hope
Slowly the dry wood he chops
Bent with the burden of labored thirst
He lay panting on the burning crust
The angry sun does not give room
To any mercy for this fiery gloom
Gradually the light is softened
Declares another stressful day's end
And with all hope lost in the wild
He drags his leaned body like a sick child
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