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On a throne of spraypaint driftwood                    I watch the sailboats glide, A painted aluminum ocean                                                With Sunsnow reflections dashing                                                                                across the waves. Lovers in their old age cause friction                                          in the pebbles                                        as they walk, unlike many things, I refuse to believe                                                                                 romance is dying. People like them help solidify my hopes. Gulls                           approach the tide wavering in the wind.                               Another September has come.                             What should come with it? Old friends have found their place in Vancouver.                                                                 Some shall return here, In attempt to                                                 escape desperate situations.                       (The recurring waves are calming)                Smoke and vapor                      cloak the mountains softly still. I'm unsure of where things are going, what a change of pace! Nine months                      since that night in a hillside cabin                                          where dreams foretold wound up in chaos.                   (More to change is on it's way)                                               But for now, I'm content with seeing the cities                     continue g r o w i n g. .........The seasons sway with the breeze.
0
Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 2:11 AM UTC
But For Now, I'm Content...
On a throne of spraypaint driftwood                    I watch the sailboats glide, A painted aluminum ocean                                                With Sunsnow reflections dashing                                                                                across the waves. Lovers in their old age cause friction                                          in the pebbles                                        as they walk, unlike many things, I refuse to believe                                                                                 romance is dying. People like them help solidify my hopes. Gulls                           approach the tide wavering in the wind.                               Another September has come.                             What should come with it? Old friends have found their place in Vancouver.                                                                 Some shall return here, In attempt to                                                 escape desperate situations.                       (The recurring waves are calming)                Smoke and vapor                      cloak the mountains softly still. I'm unsure of where things are going, what a change of pace! Nine months                      since that night in a hillside cabin                                          where dreams foretold wound up in chaos.                   (More to change is on it's way)                                               But for now, I'm content with seeing the cities                     continue g r o w i n g. .........The seasons sway with the breeze.
connor-j
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Sep 9, 2015
Sep 9, 2015 at 2:11 AM UTC
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