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Wound

Not unlike the hands on a clock We constantly move forward And yet go nowhere Playing a game with time As we wander around in circles Until our batteries run out.

Copyright © | Year Posted 2015




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Date: 6/16/2016 10:16:00 AM
Amanda H.,, nicely penned. Enjoyed reading your thoughts and words today. **SKAT**
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Date: 2/18/2015 9:10:00 AM
When our batteries run out we wil be given new life. Our biggest cranial capacity and smartest cortex are not to end merely into dust. Your great poem in brevity inspired completion and addition of muse. Kudos. Pls do review my latest poem too.
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Book: Reflection on the Important Things