A Passing Storm

I wrote this in appreciation of

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Sort of a follow-on.


Soaked I stand, but wilted not
for never can I wash away
these feelings of dismay
towards a wrong not righted.
Hope is never blighted.
As sure as the very next day,
thoughts and dreams will drift away.
With the up and coming Sun,
morning rises with a hope
that surely I will be able to cope.