Where the weight of the past falls against your back
Without warning
Like a storm brewing behind you without thunder
Lightning strikes Without a sound
And leaves you on the ground
A hand reaches out to you who is no one
To lift you to your feet
And still you rise
Never looking behind you
Or up at the skies
But forward is the prize
That keeps you going
And I promise you
You’ll reach it if you keep walking.
If you stop reaching for someone else’s hand.
And though it is difficult to understand
You will learn.
There is no reason to run my child,
You are the storm.

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