Lunch Hour

Major retail, I smile and be friendly, whatever I’m feeling.

There are days of life in me, that so much fear is stealing.

 

Lunch, early spring, on the way out picnic table, glad for quiet.

Just me and the sun, and the budding colors running riot.

 

I dream of her, and I’ll hope will be, and could be bright.

I dream of another world, without pain, filled with light.

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