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When's the day gonna come, when the sight of your face doesn't make a brother reflect and go back? Why is it this train of mine can never seem to stay it's course, and ends up running off-track...just at the sight of your mere vision. You know now these words are directed one way, and it's you I've been missin'...and on top of that, I'd be lying to myself for thinking if you wanted to talk that I'd be unreceptive to listen.
Sooner or later, come hell or high water; whether the day is tomorrow, or it's way down farther...the words will come out, and they won't merely be said, they'll be done. At this point, it seems like an eternity for the title of these poems to have some concrete meaning, and to finally ring true, but the day's gonna come when I'm done pinin' over this, and I'll officially be over you.
6/9/08 @ 11:19 P.M.
Photo by Clifton Henri
1 comment:
Cool site. I will be checking in!!
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