I fought the long slog
For the fruit of freedom,
But the fruit was one of those
Where you couldn’t eat ’em.
What do I do with this?
It looks pretty I guess,
But it’s not what I’d hoped for,
I’m not that impressed.
And now, it’s back to the nitty-gritty
With a shattered hope like,
“Oh, what a pity.”
I pray that I learn
To love the stress;
Otherwise, what hope
Have I left?
–Kurtis Lunz