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The sun loses its shine in spiralling time and a world decays in the greyness of age; so the saying says. A lie. Doubt the blackening of the clouds in the sky, don’t doubt the energy in your blood so alive; all the rain, all the water cannot wash away love. Reach for those dreams you’ve been thinking of. Blow out the candles; Your own smoke alone is making you mad; the chemical concoction of red, red rage may be poured, coherently upon a clean white page. Made safe. So remain forever, stay your favourite age; mother, each day is a dawn, a fire, a jewel clearer than a river, rare as a shower of meteors, a dream like no other.
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Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 8:13 AM UTC
A Dream, to my Mother
The sun loses its shine in spiralling time and a world decays in the greyness of age; so the saying says. A lie. Doubt the blackening of the clouds in the sky, don’t doubt the energy in your blood so alive; all the rain, all the water cannot wash away love. Reach for those dreams you’ve been thinking of. Blow out the candles; Your own smoke alone is making you mad; the chemical concoction of red, red rage may be poured, coherently upon a clean white page. Made safe. So remain forever, stay your favourite age; mother, each day is a dawn, a fire, a jewel clearer than a river, rare as a shower of meteors, a dream like no other.
maria-rose
Written by
English
Aug 27, 2012
Aug 27, 2012 at 8:13 AM UTC
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