gentle does the rainfall
in the cold dark night
but it can never wash away
the things the darkness hides
her bright laughter as we played
on warm summer days
in bright sunshine in the parks
and on forests shaded trails
on bicycles with bright chrome
riding together down country roads
fields of grain waving in the breeze
as we passed on our way
of bright hope of children born
and of their glad cries
of all the things that they would learn
and all that they would be
of bright hopes and joyful plans
formed in the dark of night
of all the dreams that we had
for the bright coming days
time does ever slip away
although we never do see
the things that we too often lose
as it passes away
many dreams and hopes I had
of all that I would do
in the bright in coming days
now lost in the falling rain
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