Regrowth

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They looked and took what they felt would make me better

Perhaps without these things, my sins would fall from often to never, maybe ever

But, they can’t make me better

They can’t change the letter

Make my heavy conscious become the lightness of a feather

Change the storm to calmer weather

They can’t make me whole

They can love, pray, and wait for regrowth of the garden in which the enemy stole

But, they can’t make me fully known

Replant the seeds needed to be sown

When they hate me from afar

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