We replanted our hopes in a hollow well hidden
Soil rich fertile so dark and worm ridden
It yields long lengths of prosperity
wealth we could obtain in parity
Infact wealth we could find on our roadsides forraging
The slow mystery of an unraveling story with no origin
Big gardens blooming outward with vibrant health
Their hands mingling with the wealth
We fertilized our hopes near their roots
Those hopes budded with vigourous shoots
Aimed sunward optimistic sticky early summer
Each season a cord that our dirty hands strum
For all the bare ditches we tilled hungry and vexed
where the soil was hard, pale and lifeless
Now we had sweet valleys to plant and turn
which would nourish us in return
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