Tuesday, January 24, 2012

Re-InVention

Plans never go as planned
Time always shifting like sand
through an hourglass of regrets

Forget the forgotten dreams
Forge on, plot new scenes
to a soundtrack of solo castanets

Look to the hills, turn your face to the horizon
There is nothing to be gained from pointless agonizing
Take inspiration from the ashes, like croutons from burnt baguettes


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