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★★★★★ (1)
Rated: E · Poetry · Environment · #1145918

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Mornings are hazy, laced with denial.
Noon is warming, waiting for revival.
Afternoons are lazy, with a sunny book in hands.
Evenings are joyful forgetting the bland.
Midnight is quiet and yet lovely, still.
Dawn is what men live for, a growing thrill
To see the day start over again.
© Copyright 2006 Kelvin Arden (claude-pimento at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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