a family of strangers in an unwelcoming land
or warm lights awaiting my return?
They maybe don't know themselves
Which way they must travel
To a peaceful co-existence.
If travel is something they'll do.
They may sit tight, like me. Do nothing.
Like me. Dream big; talk bigger. Like me.
Like clowns falling back into a tub of
Whipped shaving soap,
We may all hear trombones laughing
And look at each other in dumb surprise
At how easy redemption comes.
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