Untold (day 2985)

Goodness grew up in a holiday town
A victim of circumstance
Faltered at the spinning wheel
Chance and fate could abide no more.
One million little pindrops
That held hands with knees that knelt;
Cannon for the triumph call
Of a Nation that goes unarmed,
Yet fights so mercilessly at
Windows of every vacant lot,
To grind away what deepest mysteries
Have ever dared to sit untold.

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