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Twenty is an ice-storm,
I am coated.
Solid and stuck,
I was.

Twenty is finding
my boots are too heavy,
struggling and strained,
I was.

Twenty's forgetting
to light my own candle,
dreamless and dark,
I was.

And twenty remembers
all former transgressions,
bitter and broken
I was.

Eighteen was first love
and Nineteen had lost it,
before the next year sang in.
Twenty was somber,
stumbling sober,
until the October began.

Twenty reflects
upon all of her follies;
Learning and stumbling,
I am.

And Twenty is healing,
acknowledged the broken.
Discovering strength,
I am.

Twenty is loved,
though she sometimes forgets it
Remembering swiftly,
I am.

And Twenty is nothing
if not grateful and hopeful.
Finally breathing,
I am.

Lizzie McLain · 32 days ago
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  •  Gary Clute: 
    Lizzie, your lyrics are very touching and powerful! What ever you do, keep writing.
     27 days ago 
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