THE SPINNING OF THREADS

 

 

 

Some are disillusioned

Some are saddened by their fate

Some dwell upon the past, and the path they did not take

The person they’ve become is different from their dream

A rag doll, a strange doll, something unforeseen

The person they’ve become is a ghostly simple soul

Falling through the clouds

Feeling vague in their faint role

 

As too we have these thoughts

We all seek altered means

But looking back through time, would you change what has become?

One single different step would change what you have done

Memories of your own

Little fish that swim the pond

Christmas day when you were six

New lives that speak and kiss

They exist because this life is random from your wish

Be at peace with all that is, for fate we cannot know

We are all as one the same

Falling, Floating, Wishing

Like weightless bits of snow

With every wince and blink

Spins the coming threads to sew

 

 

 

 

 

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