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Life's Book Days fold back One upon the other. Making up the book, of my life. Each date Each moment is a page In the very private writings Of my recollections. I read my book of memories Reflecting on, As I care. Choosing the page, Being alone or joined by friends. I can pick the days of thunder Or the times enjoyed at peace. Thrilling again, To the fun of yesterday Or baying at the moon of my passions. When my day is done, It's done. No revision or corrections, It is printed and published Me, being the author. Thoughts, dreams, some unfinished, History can not be changed. With full realization; I pick up the ink pen Of today. |
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