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Caretaker
December 2, 2013
I am the ground beneath your feet
sometimes shaky but far from solid,
the wind whistling in your ear
whispering words of wisdom.
Heavy rainstorms of sorrow
drench the desert dry,
create hurricanes and tidal waves so powerful
that even the blind man can see.
A glass remains
half full
after slaughtered aspirations
as your troubles
are now twisted
into opportunities
I am carrying you over those invisible walls
even if I slip
and fall
© Nicole B., Newcastle, WA
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