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My grief is like a river_
I have to let it flow, But I myself determine Just where the banks will gọ Some days the current takes me In waves of guilt and pain, But there are always quiet pools Where I can rest agaịn I crash on rocks of anger_ My faith seems faith indeed, But there are other swimmers Who know that what i need Are loving hands to hold me When the waters are too swift, And someone kind of listen When I just seem to drift. Grief's river is a process Of relinquishing the past. By swimming in hope's channels I'll reach the shore at last. By: Cythia G. Kelly
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