The Weather

The weather moves in its own way
And, Lord knows, it wasn't meant to stay
But be free flowing and in motion
Like some kind of locomotion
And all I can do is just agree
Consent to It using me
To achieve its own aim
This life is free 
But it's not a game
Not cheap to buy 
Or sell the ticket
Neither calm 
Nor there to trick it
But only abiding in one way
I love you and that's what it says

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