The lines “cold and dreary” often come back to me,
Cruel cold and harsh they may be,
It’s because of them I see.
The lines “warm and Happy” come less,
But when they do I remember I’m blessed.
Because they are the ones who gave me my first flight,
And there what let me write.
But with out sight,
I would have never taken flight,
Because truthfully they both let me write.
And the reason why I write?
To show my thanks to what lets me.
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