Thursday, May 6, 2010

Somehow these stories
always find a way into my heart
as if I were living and breathing them
as if somehow I was a part of them

The things I can see
the things I can hear
aren't just some foreign imagination
they make themselves very clear

Come listen, come walk with me
they say
come dance with me
today is a good day

It seems so easy
to just brush it aside
without a moments thought
and then I forget, for a while

They are still there
waiting, watching
shouting and prodding

How can I not listen
when I am the only one who can hear?
how can I
walk away

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