what's a dime in a pocket
to a hand making lockets
nothing but sentiments
and monuments as time flies by
things often seen
have often been neglected
till the day they pass away
we pass them along our way
books and words
pronounce the verbs
and pictures tell a million stories
like birds sing their tune so freely
our reflection in a mirror
we see it daily
but as time goes by
so fades our glory
lest we make time to paint our story
we'll be gone like the seed in the thorny
Thursday, January 19, 2006
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