The back door sits in fear
Staring at the one screw holding it
At any time the door will break away
Leaving with nothing but broken dreams
The strong wind is blowing
Within its coalition of designs and needs
The foundation is growing weak every day
Because it isn't build on solid ground
The crocodiles tears will not help
As it has no bearing to its survival
Though they can hear the strong wind
Lashing it hard teaching a lesson
The back door tries to close
It just doesn't work anymore
Karma has stood her ground
Between the back door
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