| She went off to the city
|
| To find what she was looking for
|
| To identify, to really try
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| To find herself some hope
|
| With the summer sun for laughing
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| And the winter rain did pour
|
| She was lovelier from learning
|
| And from living, loving more
|
| From her dancing love and young soul
|
| And the gypsies in her dream
|
| To the pulse of stark acceptance
|
| When the winds began to freeze
|
| With no curfews left to hold her
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| And no walls to shield her pain
|
| Finding out that facts were older
|
| And that life forms are insane.
|
| The presence of protection seemed
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| To fade, as did her doubt
|
| That she now was no exception
|
| Nor was the love who pushed her out
|
| Though the streets cried out,
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| Go, homesick
|
| Virtues strength of mind would ring
|
| In the maladies of meaning
|
| The sad song she learned to sing.
|
| Now, her teachers and philosophers
|
| And the poet’s silver throat
|
| Are the vessels which on wisdom’s karmic ocean she will float.
|
| Was this her revolution,
|
| Just a child in love’s crusade,
|
| With the question in her innocence
|
| Through the lies her eyes betrayed? |