As I remember your smile this beautiful morn,
From the wellspring of compassion these words are born,
That you may clearly see the anger and scorn,
That you bear for all those who've left you forlorn.
May the hope I see and compassion I feel,
And the thoughts that I write help you quickly heal
your wounded heart, all bad feelings you conceal,
like all that begin and end, in Truth, aren't real.
Sadness and scorn should be like ugly kites flown,
When their strings are released, you'll feel you have grown
wiser, maturer, a new thinking you'll hone,
That will form the bright rays of a smiling new dawn.
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