The road may be long, weary, and winding
But how could you ever tell
Fortune is hidden and love is blinding
And you just might find gold at the bottom of a well
There is one thing I know to be certain
That brings neither dread nor cheer
Things tend to hide in forests and mountains
But the end of the road is not visible from here
Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash
December Rose 
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