Sunday, September 9, 2012

Fleetwood Mac


Fleetwood Mac

             As the day gradually fades… as the birds wings sway out of range…
We change.
 Whether the storm is great, the weather remains a constant…change.
We change.
We cry, we laugh as toddlers do at silly trances of strange…
We change.
I sit alone dwelling the town of my thoughts, wiping away the hurt that once left stains…
We change.
            My Pen in hand says to be disband your regard for memory and live as one time is meant to be…
We changed.


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