Wednesday, April 09, 2003
Visiting family...
Among the quiet sigh of trees and stretches of green grass I drove to visit you to recount a lifetime long past the warm weather beckoned my travel to follow feet familar in treading the old pathways of sorrow the sun shone softly as I walked to where you were my ears echoing with the sounds of a murmur was it the wind or my voice as I knelt slowly down my hand sweeping to clean the stone on the ground wondering why how just eight numbers could define me this cold etching of 'nineteen forty-six to nineteen ninety' Father, you slumber while in this wasteland I still face seeking some sense in these circumstances and faith wishing I knew how you could deal with waiting this body is breathing but my soul is suffocating... |
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in?scrip?tion (n-skrip-shun)n.
the facts.
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