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Eleven minutes past eleven.
I wish that time were standing still,
So I can taste some of forever
And still have more of it to kill.

Eleven minutes past eleven.
I wish I hadn’t closed my eyes,
So I could see the world keep spinning
As my spirit wilts and dies.

Eleven minutes past eleven,
I wish I were a breath away
From the wish I try to make
When the words are hard to say.

Twelve minutes past eleven now.
The minute to wish on passed by.
And if it was ever real,
I couldn’t bring myself to try.

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Copyright © | Year Posted 2017

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Date: 8/23/2018 6:50:00 AM
A delightful poem, Diana. I've always loved 11:11 on a clock. It's a magical moment.
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