History

1 Nov

Stream of consciousness flow from one line to the next
Varied and ambiguous meanings in a typed sea of text
How many words have gone and how much laughter’s been lost
And how many smiles have taken the place of frowns

A predictably understandable rhythm
Not rowing too far out from shore
Words are held in to prevent schisms
And surrender to whom the waves have tossed

This is where I start to lose place
And the faces of those whom I’ve known
Will fly In front of my eyelids
And history will say that I’ve grown

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