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On the Plain Of Pretense
Strides....long strides...short strides unpaced, unplanned without design brief gusts and twisters, rain but no dew. This moment in the valley I can not see the sky. I see the plan is created by necessisity and followed through with hesitantcy lived out as if time alone will heal the broken.. strides. Strides that find no time to rest but to pace the grace with countless measure hold fast the times when the clock seemed to stop those are the memories I will treasure. If you must go do it quickly but stay...stay with me and we'll shorten the strides and stay close together and all our memories will live forever. I think that I can not bear anymore these strides and then feet dragging and the speed which brings the changes and the paces of these strides.
Written in a quiet moment of reflection, part of the process of healing...a way to feign the depression, and the pain that ensues it's nightmares.
This Poem was Critiqued By: arnie s WACHMAN On Date: 2006-09-07 18:00:48
Critiquer Rating During Critique: 9.90000
Writing is a great way to heal and overcome depression. I trust you're keeping a Journal. I suspect the strides refer to a mate that you could not keep up with. Remember ... change is good. One only has to realize that. We cannot remain stagnant or else we wither and die. Well laid out. No need for those periods you threw in. Stay well. Take a bubble bath....
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