Saturday, April 22, 2017


Which selfish thought is the change I might wrought 
Upon my tortured life?

The giant steps would change too much
That all the love be lost.

The tiny folds may more prevail
Upon the for of pain.

The fruitless thought that begins that journey holds me back
That I could just for once catch my runaway life.

That I might bottle and preserve just one moment of peace
Instead with a tear of remorse for all that has passed
I know I must dance alone to the music as it plays. 

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