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Monday, April 23, 2012


gentle sunset...
bring upon the nights lights
let the needle drop...
progress threw a sound mind
minus a lifetime of grief & turn it into out cries
over valleys draped in mythology
I find
my eyes see better with an out pouring of timelines
shooken awake
I reside on a fault line
between doing whats wrong
& doing whats right.
I might
never tell her how much I love her
...but tonight
that all could change forever
but so
these endeavors haunt and shape the way I think
why Im so quiet
ever so contemplative
...does the lion always roar?
does the wind always whistle...
its these visceral moments that are so pivotal.

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