My heart is blowing amidst the trees,
It’s dipping, rising, flailing.
I’m trying to survive this life.
My gentle soul is ailing.
I know that it has something.
I know it has its share of gold,
But the way that life is treating me,
Has left me somewhat cold.
I’m trying to revive it,
To give it the kiss of life,
But in pushing ever forward,
I feel cut by every knife.
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