Then it comes a time when contemplation is not that of what's to come, but of what hasn't been done. I thought of a once was, of a what could have been, but like time, who has yet to give more of himself to man, I am kept to the two unforgiving hands. I now understand true solitude, graced only by acceptence. I have my choice, now what say you?
Thursday, August 18, 2011
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