• Monday, October 24th, 2005

It’s the end of school
A few will not pass
The space between life and death,
Will not change.
Neither will the space,
Between night and day.
Wickedly unpleasant wind will stop blowing
Clouds and air will rest
A few will not pass
They will be the ones,
Who will be able to tell,
That truth and love,
Did not end.
New school will begin
New grass will grow
Birds will fly
Rivers and seas will rest
Violent winds will no longer blow
The children will play
The sun will rise,
And heal their bodies and minds.
They will be the ones,
Who will be able to tell,
That truth and love,
Cannot end.
Sadly, for some,
This realization,
Was too late!

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