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Musings
November 14, 2008
Sometimes
You and I are like a scene of summer
Rain
Come to wash the sun away
Come to clasp us together with its hands
We are here.
Past the sunshiny days of childhood
And gravely roads
And hollow vows
Past the intermission.
We are
Too much for the spoken word.
We are
Past the reality that it the spoilt world around us.
We are Here.
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