Sounds Resound
What we say in this Life
Means less than what we do
But … What we do in this Life
Defines both me … and you …
We journey roads less traveled
Or maybe traffic filled
But less or more is moot of point
If beauty’s left instilled
Within the hearts of others
Or of a thought compelled
Which roots-out ugliness
With hatred there expelled
An angel in your dream-room
Where loveliness abounds
Emits all your joyfulness … and
In my mind the sounds resound.
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