Time marches upon blown winds, you & I move
on,
To another place far away & within a different
song,
Leaving behind, all deeds done & what´s
been seen,
Old regrets, unlived dreams & what has gone
& been,
Our history, upon sepia pages of words once
scribed,
Within the fuzzed drunken stupor, of old wine
imbibed,
We, mere poetry, upon the tongues of poets long
gone,
Here today, but tomorrow with time, we go marching
on.
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