Time

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Time

The years keep flying by
Most of the tears have already dried
We're tied in, easily broken
So many things to be spoken
Severely bruised, with wounds still open
Just a token of what's been chosen
The scabs have finally healed
Yet the scars have sealed the deal
Our mistakes are not forgotten

The months will buy some time
Moving forward through the pain
Things will never be the same
Surviving makes you stronger
Hold on a little longer

The days bring a quick taste
Reality eating at you
Take advantage of the game
This time there's more to gain
Things will fall into place
Just go for what you're after

SKW
10/14/08

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Poetry is not an expression of the party line. It's that time of night, lying in bed, thinking what you really think, making the private world public, that's what the poet does.

Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997) U.S. poet.

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