The weary often travel
by dan ankers
Where there is no home, there is no safety
there is no safety
When time comes, you’ve outstretched your welcome here
you’re welcomed here
There is no way to come or leave
you just hang your coat by the door
Hitch your heart to a passing wagon
and just bleed
from your feet
Indeed
Stuck inside by the hour
wearing clothes of a gentle rain
and the sickly sweet smell of manure
on a certain kinda day
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