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Jan 2012
Time passes in a mystery of minutes and months,
Days and nights a survival of solitude and sleep,
Life and living becomes an unending wait for Now.

Now is just a Technicolor rush of with you again,
But our time together always is impossibly short,
So that leaving you again gets harder every time.

Why is time a new variable with the one I love?
Why are the colours of love so warm for us now?
Why do Cupid’s arrows still draw blood so red?
Why are grey days bright and rainy days soft?
Why after all these years do I feel like this?
Why is time with you in too-short seconds?

If only our love stopped the earth turning,
We could love in a frozen second of time,

Forever.
Ian Beckett
Written by
Ian Beckett  Dublin and Vienna
(Dublin and Vienna)   
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   Ian Beckett
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