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Yesturday,
Like broken moon beams hanging in darkened air.
Are the pieces of memory reflecting tears and laughs.
While today we make new mirrors,
Which fall from our hands as dusk rises ubove our heads.
The fragile memories of our day shatter upon impact of time.
Tomorrow,
Our materials lay before us.
We ready our hands for making new memories.
- by Scarletmaelstrom |
- Poetry And Lyrics
- | Submitted on 06/17/2010 |
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- Title: untitled...
- Artist: Scarletmaelstrom
- Description: This is nothing special. Just something I thought up and wanted to post to see what people thought of it.
- Date: 06/17/2010
- Tags: poerty untitled poem
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