Travails with a conscience

It came from far away

And nestled nearer home

All the while beside me

From birth to when I’d grown

 

My travails with a conscience lay

Still active – I had known

It came from far away –

Perched by my very own

 

And every time I saw her

She looked peaceful –

Like the sand

Reaching out from yonder

Saying; Come, now –

Hold my hand

 

Whenever I would touch her

She’d shiver – as if scared

I’d think, again, and wonder

Whether storm-clouds over there

 

Would rain on the parade

That had gathered, with the band

Yet my travails, with a conscience

Would reach out, and hold my hand

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