Life falls apart, like leaves from a tree.
Time runs away, yet I stand still.
I look in the mirror, but do not recognize my own face.
Who is the man in the mirror?
What have I become?
I am but a boy trapped in an aging man’s body.
I hope for change, but know it will not come.
Fate is what you make it, so I’ve been told.
I know my fate, but hide it from others.
A warm smile, a soft laugh.
Both help me hide my fate behind a mask.
Will anyone stop to look behind the mask, or will fate run its course?
Thursday, February 7, 2008
Contemplation
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