Drifts
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Drifts
Pen to paper,
sword to the soul,
write your heart out...
Now!
Do something,
sing,
dance,
prance even,
but do not stop.
Living is a funny
the experience
a mock reality
of all our tomorrows,
we forget about the present.
It is a miracle,
all it's own.
The light outside,
bright full of sun,
and yet
there is...
a dark side of the moon.
We are dreaming,
beaming...
seaming to make sense...
and not.
Nothing,
common... at all.
Copyright © Ann Foster | Year Posted 2021
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