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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 ...

Saturday, May 14, 2011

Poem 212: Passing Through Time

It's funny how things happen
in a manner unprecedented.
How people come and leave and
we never really convalesce
after being struck with their absence.
Perhaps as time moves on 
these feelings will cease 
and we'll embrace reality
instead of living in a mental spot
of 'maybe's and 'perhaps's.

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