Days of yore
By Jewel
where does one turn?for sunlight in the daywhen gray covers the creasesturning well made plansto a drenched pour of liquationwhere shall we search?for finer moments of abstract thoughtwhen our spirit fades to its fatherland and minutes become hours of scenesreplaying themselves vividwhat does the heart say?flitting across a view of yesteryearsunable to absorb woes of time.Our ultimatum kisses the omega all too soon for such drafted thoughts.Will all become translucent?Will the path thank the cobblestone?and if I clicked my heelswould I indeed find a place called home. Written November 15th, 2001 © on Nov 15 2001 10:42 AM PST 0 • 12
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"where does one turn?for sunlight in the daywhen gray covers the creasesturning well made plansto a drenched pour of liquationwhere shall we search?for finer moments of abstract thoughtwhen our spirit fades to its fatherland and minutes become hours of scenesreplaying themselves vividwhat does the heart say?flitting across a view of yesteryearsunable to absorb woes of time.Our ultimatum kisses the omega all too soon for such drafted thoughts.Will all become translucent?Will the path thank the cobblestone?and if I clicked my heelswould I indeed find a place called home...."