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May 2015
I hate the summer mornings,
And walking on a path.
I hate the silent mourning
For strangers as they pass.
I hate the way that I look down
When a stranger walks past me.
I hate the way they do the same
As if there's nothing there to see.

To turn back time is pointless,
As I'd do it all again.
For I'll never know what I know now
And I know I didn't then.
The mistakes we make when we are young
We can't go back and change,
And I'm sure I'll find my early self
Just as willing to exchange.

The time for making friends has gone
And I didn't have the tools
To make good friends with anyone
When I thought they're all such fools.
But now I know that I was wrong,
I'm a bigger fool than they;
For I'm alone and work so hard
While all they do is play.

It's true to say as we grow old
We care less what others think,
But it's also true what they all say
That as we age we shrink.
Our lives become so small outside
That there's little room to breathe,
And maybe that's why I just sigh
When someone wants to leave.

It's sad to think that I thought this
And know what I know now.
That all it took was someone else
To ignore what I allow,
And step inside my silent halls,
Open curtains on the day,
And love and laugh and dance with me
And teach me how to play.
A love poem of sorts
MV Blake
Written by
MV Blake  UK
(UK)   
536
     Danny Price, susan, NV, --- and ---
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