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Rose Colored Spectacle Is life a painstaking journey into night or dawning of the day, sun shining bright? The glass half empty, or the glass half full A wool sweater, over the eyes to pull? The glasses you choose, shades of black or rose colored spectacles, kept intact A royal flush, that is a mirage of mind Or a winning hand with just one of a kind I make my own history, which birth to death abides. Each precious moment, a mystery, on life's train that it rides. Rejoice in moments, which never come again, They weave lifes fabric, one of a kind. For life is unconditional, a joyous refrain, Other judgments just mirages of the mind. ******** Actually wrote this in 2008. thought I'd post it again to remind me of what really is important ******** |
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I used to love your poetry jiminy, so I will continue to read.
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