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My old little story

"When you are old and gray and full of sleep, and nodding by the fire, take down this book and slowly read, and dream of the soft look your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep."
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Joined: Mon May 07, 2012 9:31 am

My old little story

Postby Konstant1nos » Mon Dec 23, 2013 4:20 am


My story has now grown old,
like a disabled old lady,
in a permanent suppression,
inspired by technical support,
hooked up on a drip,
dripping verses of antibiotics.

It talks about hope,
in a package, wrapped up as a present.

It talks about the beauty, the youth, the eternal love,
and the alchemic transformation, into lead,
with a speck of logic.

But no, my story is not like an old lady.
She was never young to get old now.
She is not disabled, and neither suppressed.
She never speaks, and she is not concern about hope,
youth, or even eternal love.

Just sitting there and observes,
sitting next to the big long window where you can see the blue…

The blue that overflows from the sky's hollow hands

The green that sings lying on the grass

The yellow that dances out in the field of wheat

The red that flowers up on the window perch

And the white….
the white, hanging off the clouds with no concerns at all…
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sue hazelton
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Joined: Wed Apr 03, 2013 12:49 pm

Re: My old little story

Postby sue hazelton » Mon Dec 23, 2013 11:25 am

A lovely story.

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