Pretty Things

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Courtesy: http://www.reykjavikboulevard.com

We see the pretty places
With sun and sand
Upon a beach hand in hand

Gloss over ugly things
Averted gaze we look
Away from what we took

Security just an illusion
Seeing what we choose
Never seeing what we lose

 

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Dream

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Did I die that night
Beneath accidental stars
To faded sounds of the city

When my eyes closed
And I was sure

Is this the result
Of a dream
Now real

Or is this life,
And that ending
Just a dream

Stoic

Rockies

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Spindrifts, 14,000 feet at dawn
Ride a Devils Backbone
Where few have ever gone

A step across the great divide
The Continental Rift
One foot on either side

Thundering voices all around
Wind, granite, sage
In wonder without a sound

Sights beyond words, I have seen
Awed to stand before
These places I have been

Stoic

 

Through The Years

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In time all things fall
Insanity softens to understanding
It was not that, ever
Simply a Truth, beyond its time

Embraced, reconciled
Never apart, but finally accepted
Maybe known before its time
I was, am, that I always was

Now to feel more, and think less
Silence is no longer boredom
It never was, yet was unheeded
I am finally enjoying the play
And I applaud

Stoic.