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Moments
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Life Time, a sadness born by all
Worse, the distance of her crawl
A phantom of slow and steady speed
Who heeds no others cry nor need
A march in silence, a season of wait
At times is agony the gait
Yet too she speeds when we would not
The slowness seems so quickly lost
And moments we would gladly hold
Quiet thoughts and touches gold
Wend fast away when comes a stall
And we wait again for time to fall...
