"The tide recedes, but leaves behind bright seashells on the sand.The sun goes down, but gentle warmth still lingers in the land.The music stops, and yet it echoes on in sweet refrains.For every joy that passes, something beautiful remains."
Sunday, March 4, 2012
The Wanderer
You stroll into my thoughts and dreams once and again; frizzled and frolic like it were your spot where you wandered to absentmindedly every now and then. It's unfair how much I miss you when you don't even think of me at all.
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