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A year gone to waste. Every phone call, every text message, every dollar spent, all a waste. Every lie you told I believed.
The wheel never stops turning, From the moment we take our first breath To the moment we take out last. Once we open our eyes We must begin the cycle of life. But it is not how it was before.
I became busy with things and stuff I forgot to make time for what was important in life I woke up and it was January the first and everything was starting new, it was cold.
Paint splatterd t-shirts, accomponied by a librarian nose, stand erect as a lighthouse. Vindictive waves may crash, And temptuous winds may roar. But I glide over these turbulant seas