Hours Through The Looking-glass
From then to now, how short the road
The burdens of time, Soul's growing load;
The view from here, how strange of there,
Like Fantasy Isle, time running wild
AND THEN--
A flash of realization
The image not wanted to see
With brief inspiration
What nightmare past has come to be?
The dreams of youth, like an aging tooth
Lost in a smile, gone in awhile;
And seeing what, and knowing when,
A hopeless dream, what might have been
AND NOW--
A loss of concentration
On shadows lost to me
With teared resignation
What dreams were then came not to be.
Austin Grant
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© 1997 Austin Grant austin.grant@tntsouth.com
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