Some how time goes on
But I feel trapped in the past
No matter what I do I can't be free
I prayed to god to end this lie
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A great poem, really like it. A good write. May i invite you to read my poem called, Indian Brave.
What is a god but a sad little sod with the power to do what he will? Where is the proof of a glorious truth in the message of blood in the till? How are we here in this nice little mere but to dance with the passing of time? Who is reflected in mirror and maze but a god just awaiting the chime?