Thursday, May 21, 2015

Now

And I do not want to recognize 
That the world is broken.
I do not wish to be awakened 
From my deep slumber.
The harmonica sounds 
The guitar strums
And we merry make
And sing to the country tunes.
Tomorrow and yesterday are forgotten
And we are lost in this moment.
Perhaps tomorrow,
We will remember again,
That the world is a broken place,
But what we own and know now,
Is now.

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