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Poetry

Pocketful of Posies

To play and have a wonderful day.

Childhood came and went away.

Days of hurt, days of wonderful play.

 

Like we all stand on a merry go round,

going round and round,

Still searching for what we already found.

No secret paradise away from our searching pair of eyes.

 

Through our rose tinted glasses,

we looked and searched through the masses.

Forward we looked, backwards we looked.

But what happened upon us:

 

Today.

Not yesterday, not tomorrow.

Not looking for a past or future to borrow.

Yet in this there is no sorrow.

 

Your past self self believes in you,

your future self awaits you.