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Thursday, May 25, 2006


Heres a poem
Blank Pages
Blank Pages
Lined for all the ages

Never being filled
Never sealed.

Away from all
Through ou the seasons and fall

It is quiet as a mouse
Never moving in the house

Sleeping in a wonderful dream
Awaking in a dreadful scream

Looking around in the dead of night
Never seeing what is right

Watching the world go by
It looks sas and sigh

It is spared
Of the horror and hurt and being paired

Soon, someone comes
To the beating of a steady drum

Starts to fill the blank pages
Living through more ages

When the writing is done
There is no longer any fun

The blank papers are no longer blank
The writer is the one to thank.

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