Mountains high, To some majestic, Yet there are strings attached. Barrier around, But don't touch the ground, For here is where Jack Frost was born. Flowers tossed, Nature's confetti, But watch out for Monk's Hood; it's poisonous. Sunshine all day In summers of play, But darkness swallows the winter. So where is the joy? When will I enjoy Purple mountain's majesty? Here I stay, Consume my day, For, Alaska, I am your ransom. So I roam rocky beach, Not in defeat, But because I take a pretty pride in my home. It may numb my body, The gold rants gaudy, But my heart forever warm not by the inconsistent sun, merely a star, but by a love that all strings can bend.
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