Feeling the biting cold
Winds of the fall
Come upon us
The harvest moon shines
Fuel for the fight
Blisters and scars
Still becoming
And yet we are
Made to weather so much more
Than this temporary
Land of prescriptions and candy
Little house on the prairie
Is a dream compared
To what we walk through
On a daily basis
Empty, counterfeit, faithless
Wonders of the world
Are wandering themselves
What are we living up to
If we have no standard ourselves?
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