A Lifetime of Dreams

April 22, 2008
By
His hand is driftwood
Rough with age
Worn with hurt and pride

His lips are cracked earth
Thirsty and pleading
A feeling of hope implied

His eyes are muddy water
Cloudy and worn
Searching for stars in your eyes

His voice is a song
Whispered among the trees
Vague, and audibly wise





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