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Ironing Out the Wrinkles
Life was once a tangled mess. Like saying yours, and meaning mine. Like feeling sick, but staying fine. Like ordering milk, and getting wine. Like seeing a tree, and saying vine. But I’m slowly straightening it out.
Life is now a lot more clear.
The tangles are unraveling,
And hope is near.
Sure there are bumps ahead.
But no more do I look on with dread.
After fourteen years the tangles have straightened.