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Aug 2014
She stands in her garden watching daffodils dance in the breeze
Her own hopeful waters sail in a boat where prayers reach her knees
Her mind only clear when her garden is near

Visions of somewhere, anywhere, but here

What’s that river running fast through the veins
Where’s that place where the mind can remain
free and clear
Where the mind can be clear

She never threw dirt on his grave, gave him a stone watching green fields
His own hopeful open space, freedom to die from a living too real
His mind only clear when no one was near

Visions of somewhere, anywhere, but here

What’s that river running fast through the veins
Where’s that place where the mind can remain
free and clear
Where the mind can be clear

Visions of somewhere, anywhere, but here
Since I'm a songwriter, many of my poems have that flavor of "hey, that could be a song.."  This poemsong is about people I know who live their lives to be somewhere else.
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