Questioning
Is the end of a lifenot the beggining of a new?
If the world blew up
would there still be a few?
They go to a new planet
to make a new home.
Another war starts
and the whole plan is blown
You are like a skipping stone,
skimming over the water
going from one spot to another
without any falter
And then it sinks to the very bottom
signifying your final stop.
Have you found another place to rest
or was it your heart's last flop?
Poetry by Mark Reynolds
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Written on 2005-11-28 at 16:57
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