Contributor: John Ogden
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It's always this time of year, isn't it?
Always now, when the days are still short,
when the sun is slowly starting toward summer
that the sadness sets in, the picking, spinning
anxieties.
How much do we have? Do we have enough?
what hell will I have to brave
to make ends meet?
Will I have to sell the things that I own?
Will anyone buy them?
Will anyone buy anything that I make?
Will I be left alone, cold forever,
cold like I am now,
alone like I am now,
with only memories of how a sweet love turned sour
to shiver me through the nights yet to come?
A tiny voice inside remembers wisdom:
This too shall pass
Nothing is forever
You were cold once,
alone once,
starving poor once,
but look where you are now.
Look at all the happiness around you now.
You won't falter.
You won't fall.
You are strong.
Your love is strong.
And that is enough to keep the cold away.
That is enough to keep the starvation away.
And worries aren't worth the paper you print them on.
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John Ogden was conceived of a government form and a passing mailbox. He lives somewhere out in the woods of a rural land more akin to the fantasy realms of literature than real life, and his favorite dirt bikes will always be the broken ones.
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