It came from the Fields of Wheat

 

There is an uncertainty in my home,

It seeps from my marriage,

It curls from my privacy.

There is a danger in our country,

It comes to steal from our children,

It comes to burn the innocent.

And there is darkness in our House.

It sweeps through our laws.

It glides through our roads.

It wears a strong and stable face,

Yet I prefer the red rose.

 

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