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Thursday, July 11, 2013

What of Me Now? Past Notes 4.5



The rain falls slowly
To reach my feet
Upon the empty soles I feel
All but the concrete

The grey sky glows ahead
To cast the sun rAys grey
The sun behind old winter
Falls cold and dead today

To be lost in waves of time
Is all but a waste
Tick, goesthe clock of day
Another breath lost to fate

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