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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 ...

Thursday, August 25, 2011

Poem 314: Being Slowly Forgotten

I don't mean to be rude dear sir,  
It really isn't up to me.
You'd be easy to remember 
if time halted memory
But as it stands, dear stranger
there's no records of your name
perhaps I met you once before
but if it's all the same
please tell me who you are once more
and please don't make me wait
There's much to do before time comes
and steals the past away.

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