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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