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Nov 2017
The mind seeks to be
To express its worth
In metaphor and homily

And yet no cloudy day remains alive
Within your mind

As memories grey and overcast
Like a visionary dream once passed

You are awake
And yet your eyes
Are only aware of this present take
On life lived alive

No voice is meant to learn such things
Or to recognize these passing clouds
Which have long since passed you by

No cloud is ever exactly as remembered within your mind
What truth do you find in this? (:
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