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  • Writer's pictureJerry C Jonnson

Coming Home

I had to leave to come home......

Pushing, pulling, twisting, turning , struggling, surrendering......

like waves crashing on a shore

then drifting back to played.

No more I said....come whispers playing to me,

"There is more, there is more".

Holding on, gripping 'what is' for fear of what 'if's' from change

The game of life became heavy

with grief, anger, fear and rebellion

What calls me has the persistence of a child's heart seeking

Dying was the only way to find life!

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