| This thread of hope I cling to is silken in its promise, strong enough to construct webs of dear intentions, yet all too easily severed by the brushing hand of indifferent Fate. Dangling, I must trust my weight to its flimsy support which, while capable of withstanding sudden storms of furious complications, is rocked uneasily by your gentle breath uttering, "No." |
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| Poemission |
| Hanging On |