Saturday, June 6, 2009

Peter Frampton Time Machine

In those dense few minutes before morning,
I forget why I am,
and contemplate what I is.

A pour shape of excuses,
I tell myself I can't,
I won't, never happen.

I used to smile,
constantly,
and I still do,
I just focus on,
the clouds in my head,
and they've been raining for days.

How is it that I no longer is,
and focused on the why's of who I am?
That's why I'm not,
and never will be,
as long as I focus on those clouds.

The Sun Rises and Sets, and still our time is endless.

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