The days grow short

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The shadows grow long

As the days grow short

Too much to do

Too little time.

 

And yet we live on

As shadows of ourselves

Not of this world

Not of the future.

 

Our memories are deep

Lasting and true

Tears are a healing balm

For the days grown short.

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quiall

I am a woman with a mission: to live life to the fullest. I will not let an itty, bitty incurable disease stop me. It may slow me down but like a ship dragging an anchor, I'll get there eventually. Walk with me at www.butterflysand.com

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