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May 2010
A foreign plane of wind and sand

A tiny granule cuts my hand

A barren place devoid of life

Peaceful and yet full of strife

The ground hectic the sky clear

Falling sand is all I hear

My personal hourglass

Where my thoughts contrast

The sun has set

The Moon has rose

The cold a threat

As my eyes close
Sean Keane
Written by
Sean Keane  Hicksville
(Hicksville)   
610
 
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