All the children are put to bed. Their mother joins them soon. The day winds down. Another day comes. Night looms, leaks into my home. Dreams call, but not by name. The cool air, a night breeze sings to me while I lay awake. Awake to hear the breeze. Awake to hear my loved ones breath. Awake to feel my troubles slip away, away to tomorrow, tomorrow, so far away.
It wasn't me. You can't prove anything.
2004-05-04
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