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The Tide

Losing hope and the ability to cope

marks a crossroad where despair comes

out of its lair and sprinkles the night with

tiny droplets of regret I cannot forget.

But I must ride this restless tide of aging.

It is ceaseless and mysterious with

destination suspected, but unknown.

While the world is still awhirl with coming

and going it is without my knowing when

and where it’s going.

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1 Comment

Oh oh...not quite ready to consider; but certainly gave me pause.

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