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Poem 1: A Beginning

I sat and I wondered, to myself in my head, what shall I do before going to bed? "There's not much day left; there's no time ...

Sunday, March 20, 2011

Poem 157: Torn (A Conversation With a Friend)

A golden friend from days gone by
whispers in my ear.
She says that life to live is here:
"Live: for life disappears!"

But friend of old, I ask of you
in deeper quandaries yet,
"What if the future God beget
is not this finished set?"

My dearest friend, please do speak up
point out my logic flaws...
I know inside, my reasons lacks
but I'm still torn; I'm ripped in half.

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