Tuesday, February 10, 2009

...

there are those that beg,
for more,
at the altar of time,
a few minutes there,
from that other day,
and then there are those,
that let time slip,
like sand through an hour glass,
un-tethered,
meaningless,
until it is past,

I beg now,
for those years past,
to have never been,
that reality,
always a dream,
so there is no me,
here,
begging for this dream,
someday reality,
not today,
but someday.

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