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Comments about jacob saunders
Black Red Black
The early winter winds freeze my many thin arms,
I know that this pain will eventually end,
Ice cold rain falls on me,
That ice cold rain soon turns to buckets of snow piling on my head,
Everything I held is now gone,
Bare and ugly, skinny as a shriveled up plant,
The snow eventually turns back to ice cold rain,
And that ice cold rain turns to tepid rain,
But the callous wind keeps blowing,
Sitting in the rain all day waiting for the sun,
A flash of light pokes out of the sky for just a moment,
The wind disposes of the clouds, showing me a path to ...