The way I tend to be...

6
Some mornings I pray for evening,
For the day to be done.
Some summer days I hide away
And wait for rain to come.
'Cause it turns out hell will not be found
Within the fires below,
But in making do and muddling through
When you've nowhere else to go.
But then I remember you,
And the way you shine like truth in all you...
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