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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Cultural >> ID #1179949 |
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Holding on
Moving forward on a path marked well by many tears, barely holding to what has eroded with the years. - Always yearning for the life that we knew yesterday, trying hard to just forget what never goes away. - Looking on with hopeful eye now growing dim with age, fearing ever that which is headlined across our page. - Moving slowly in a world that's moving way to fast, dying more with every day while living in the past. Someone has said that, The moment we are born we begin to die.
© Copyright 2006 James A. Osteen Jr. (UN: poetman at Writing.Com).
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James A. Osteen Jr. has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work. |