Saturday, July 23, 2011

From My Notebook: The Passage of Time

The mists of time endlessly swirl before my eyes.
And I watch helplessly as the pool of age slowly dries.
Nothing that was, can ever be again,
Whether it had been of happiness or pain.
So let’s sing a sweet song for that, which is gone,
But let us also keep looking forward to the new adventure, as time marches on.

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