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A beacon of light, in the darkness.
A guiding light, is what must be,
If we're to continue to be free
Of the hate, existing in this mess
That is being stirred, in this way
By a leader that's trying to stay,
Atop of his party, that will condone
The whims of one, that should atone
To this country, that's a great nation
And to stop this hateful aberration.

Here, I do sit
A powerless twit,
That is afraid to say
About this day
And about tomorrow's dawn,
Or life beyond.
The fear I have,
Comes every day
And just won't go away.
I hate the weakness
Inside of me
And pray that God
Will also see,
A man who is trying,
Even though he's crying
Inside, so no one can see,
His intense fight with agony.

When I was twenty-two,
I thought I would live forever.
At the age of thirty-two,
Life was ever so grand.
When I was forty-two
A convertible was my ride.
At the age of fifty-two,
Life was good again.
When I turned sixty-two,
Retirement intrigued me so.
At the age of seventy-two,
The love was life and care.
When I was eighty-two,
Aches and pains were there.
As I await ninety-two,
I worry not, about life's vision,
For that will be God's decision.

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