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Dead End Track
The night creeps up on me,
Haunting my every thought.
Feeling of loneliness fills the air,
This day is out of time to spare.
As I think about my progress made,
I may have just wasted another day.
Every day has the same front and back,
Its starts with hope, and ends with a dark, dead end track.
Poems Are Songs
and they are paintings, and sculptures, plays, and short stories, moasics, and buildings - stretch, soar - starting now, the journey never ends - Lady A