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Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 1
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You, I and LifePage 1 of 6    (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6)
This thread was created with the intent to contain exercises in poetic expression - some of experience, some of encouragement, and some just whimsical, but all poetic expression of the living of life, what it entails factually or spiritually.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 2
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A Bridge of Old
Posted: 1/6/2007 7:29:10 AM
I know of when they built it, I know of it’s demise
I know of wood and steel of which it was comprised,

T’is not the wooden beams, nor steel or even nails
T’is the bridge’s character that still today prevails

Countless people crossed it’s worn and wooden planks
As it lay there silently across opposing banks

And underneath it, in the shadow it once made
So many laughing children in that shadow played

And there was I among them, with exuberant delight
Filling the fantasies of a summers’ youthful flight

Watching dull green bullfrogs and butterflies so free
In the bridge’s shadow … provided there for me

The memories flood over me like clouds up in the sky
Recalling days of old … as they slowly drifted by.

The Old Red Covered Bridge, of course, is a memory
Within my mind it still comes forth … prompting reverie

And often on occasion, I go to where it stood
Hoping again to see: The steel, the nails and wood.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 3
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Bed of Roses
Posted: 1/6/2007 7:40:52 AM
If ‘tis a bed of roses on which you want to lay
You should check for thorns, before you “hit the hay”

The glitter and the comfort you may think therein
Could be misleading …and worse than where you’ve been

Oh, it may be tempting, but worth considerin’
If you lay you down, can you get up again?

If ‘tis the easy pathways that you always seek
Life will be misery, your future hard and bleak

For in your future difficulties surely lie ahead
Then it’s hard to arise from roses you call bed

So … Reject the gratuities, dismiss the easy way
And admiration for your accomplishments will be your just ballet.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 4
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Posted: 1/6/2007 7:44:53 AM
Success can be elusive, success can be reversed
It can be lucrative, and it can be accursed
Success can be attained, and with a guarantee
But first, verse yourself in tough adversity

Wealth may be obtained – enough to make you swoon
But mustn’t be fed to you by a silver spoon
Obtaining education through tough adversity
Will bring Success to you in all it’s clarity

The hardest road of travel, with potholes of despair,
Is successes’ learning path … if you are aware
That to partake of suffering with hardships overcome
Is the ladder to success, with adversity on each rung

Experiencing difficulties, with each one understood
When you have learned from them, results are always good.
If you learn Life’s lessons first, and struggle for Success
Adversity won’t bother you, for you have passed the test.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 5
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The Road
Posted: 1/6/2007 7:47:35 AM
We know not the road we’ll take
Following our birth
Or where that road will take us
Or of our journeys’ worth.

We know not the paths we’ll cross
As our life proceeds
Or of the people there
Nor responsibilities

We only know because we breathe
‘Tis onward we must go
Absorbing Life’s lessons of
Things we do not know

To some their road brings fame
So ordinarily
Without the need of efforts
Or philosophy

Others find a road so hard
Where sorrows there abound
And become so buried there
Spirits are surely drowned

But most roads will lead us
To a commonality
Of how to cope with Life
And responsibility.

But, before we find our Journey
Comes onto its’ end
Our success, we find, depends upon
Our willingness to bend
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 6
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Kindred Spirits
Posted: 1/6/2007 7:50:13 AM
As a single being
Through Life’s Ocean do I sail
Contemplating my ocean’s wake …
Until receiving your email

Now it’s my horizons
Tho’ unknown and distant be
That are garnering interest
And invading reverie.

New oceans lay before me
With their waters running deep
But because you wrote to me
‘Tis vigilance now I keep

To read your wit and wonder:
A friendship kindled there.
Friends of Kindred Spirits
Make Spiritual Millionaires.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 7
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Let It In
Posted: 1/6/2007 7:53:41 AM
It’s standing there before us
But goes unrecognized
For we don’t use our minds,
We only use our eyes

Invisible and quiet
It remains before us there
But daily chores and ballgame scores
Are all our minds ensnare.

If we would stop and study,
If we would just take pause
And use our minds, not our eyes
We would see the cause

Then still standing there before us
As it’s often been
Is that Golden Opportunity,
Just stop … and let it in.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 8
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How Long Ago
Posted: 1/6/2007 8:00:28 AM
Once did I hypothesize
How rays of sun fill my eyes
… but, how long ago was that?

My father stood before me there
Showing how to love and care
… but, how long ago was that?

A word written upon a page
A thought there to engage
… but, how long ago was that?

I breathed the air of Life so sweet
Thankful that she was there to meet
… but, how long ago was that?

The very first word my child spoke
New joys inside me woke
… but, how long ago was that?

Life before me ran distantly
The world was there for me to see
… but, how long ago was that?

How long ago was that?
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 9
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Like Differences
Posted: 1/6/2007 8:08:29 AM
Opposites distract, opposites react,
Opposites oppose, so do not attract

So … if there’s attraction between me and thee
Can we then opposites be?

I like the white wines, you like the red
Both acceptable – so, that’s enough said

You prefer treadmills, I like the bike
That is absurd! Why don’t we hike?

You like the daisy, while I prefer rose
But both are joyful when under a nose

I like a Keating, you love a Yates
Both of good rhyme, and acceptable gaits

The symphony’s you, while I like the rock
But it’s all music by “Stones” or by Bach

Yes, there are differences, as you can see
But I can’t think of any one better than: We.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 10
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Distant Inspirations
Posted: 1/6/2007 9:50:59 AM
While she is on a continent
I’ll never ever see
I can feel her presence
Standing next to me

For through her words of warmth
And inspiration she
Provides to all who read her words
She’s endeared herself to me

I know nothing of her life
But of the words she writes
I find spirituality
Creating my insights

How can one so distant
That inside me get
Ridding me of fears
All lost without regret

I don’t know HOW it’s happened,
I only know it’s true
And if you but read her words,
It may happen to you, too.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 11
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Nothing Can Compare
Posted: 1/6/2007 11:49:21 AM
There are those among us
Providing melody
No, ‘tis not through music,
But rather, who they be.

Maybe it’s your Mother
Gentle of caress
Always there striving
To bring you happiness

Perhaps it is your Father
Sturdy, stout and strong
Proving you those lessons:
Never to go wrong

There are those married folk,
With their loving spouse
Giving mutual comforts
In their home and house

Brothers, sisters, cousins
And other of our kin
All may make a wonder,
Of days we’re living in

Clergy, writers, poets
All of them achieve
Enhancements of our mental state
And cause us to believe

Life, you see, is measured
On a multitude of planes
And never is it measured
By monetary gains

It is of those around us
Comforting with care
With all the music they supply
There’s nothing can compare.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 12
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Posted: 1/6/2007 12:31:03 PM
Have you been the one
Whom on your spouse did cheat?
Have you been the salesman
Selling sours as a sweet?

Have you told a lie,
To hide a loathesome truth,
Rendering you a person
Of dastardly uncouth?

Did you cheat on income tax
For monetary gain,
If you did, you must know
Your honesty’s been slain.

Have you become so comfortable
In telling small “white lies”,
You can no longer tell
Where truth or lie applies?

I cannot answer
The questions herein posed
‘Tis only you can answer
The problems you’ve composed.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 13
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Posted: 1/6/2007 2:26:57 PM
Do we believe in all we’re told?
Do we put faith in what we’re sold?

And are the words of those we trust
Of truth spoken … or biased?

How do we know they’re not a lie?
When words spoken don’t comply,

With what we see, or feel or touch
Then “blind faith” can cause us much

Betrayed deceit in our beliefs
And shipwrecks us upon Lie’s Reefs.

If what we’re told does not comply
They we must ask the question: “Why?”

Then reassess what we’ve been told.
When Truth is found we must uphold

That Truth survives and faith replaced
And those who lied placed in disgrace.

Faith alone can’t turn the tide
Nor in lies can we reside

We must choose, don’t you see
Between what we’re told … and reality.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 14
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Losing ... YOU
Posted: 1/6/2007 2:30:28 PM
Life is very short we see
And fate will turn the screws
Our future we can't foresee
So, be careful how you choose.

Introduce a malady
And intend it to abuse
Will give you moral bankruptcy
So, be careful how you choose.

And there is paranoia
Who's I.D. you refuse
Will deliver its' fantasia
So, be careful how you choose

For if we harbor discontent
‘Tis then we light the fuse
Of hatred and it's ascent
So, be careful how you choose

If you ignore these things
And they are things you choose
When they belong to you
’Tis YOU that you will lose.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 15
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The Old TV
Posted: 1/6/2007 8:09:07 PM
Of the items in the store,
All were second hand
I picked out an old TV,
With a walnut stand

One side was badly scratched
Two knobs were missing too
But that’s not the story
I’m about to tell to you

T’was about the second week
Of the TV at my place
Sitting there against the wall
Near the old staircase

I recall the night was late
As I readied me for bed
When I turned the TV off,
Its’ screen … it turned blood red

The appearance caused a start
I gasped a gulp of air
I couldn’t turn my gaze away
I stood right there and stared.

Then a low murmuring
From deep within the set
Cold chills ran over me
I’ve not forgotten yet

A voice, low and menacing
Containing graveled rasps
I could not then stop again
My involuntary gasp

I stood there mesmerized
My gaze remained transfixed
Emotions racing through me
And all of them were mixed

The Voice on the other side
Of the blood red TV screen
Issued a command to me
So ominous and mean:

“Place your hand upon the screen
And repeat these words to me,
Where you are right now,
Is where I need to be”.

I felt my arm move upward
Powerless to resist
I felt a burning in my palm
As the TV screen it kissed

I heard a voice and realized
The speaker it was me:
“Where you are right now,
Is where I need to be”.

As the words transmitted,
I could feel a change
Overwhelming me.

As I stared in disbelief
My hand – it disappeared
Absorbed into the blood red screen
As the burning onward seared …

Through my wrist, up my arm
The hotness I could feel
Inward was I screaming
Not believing this was real!

In reflection from the screen
I was being pulled into
I saw a face, and screamed inside:
“That horrid face is YOU!”

The rapid assimilation continued then
All feelings were extinguished
And all was calm and still

Now here I sit deep inside
This computers’ TV screen
If ‘tis a disturbance that you feel
Sharply, and very keen

Just place your hand up on the screen
And read these words to me:
“Where you are right now,
Is where I need to be”.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 16
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The House©
Posted: 1/7/2007 5:50:07 PM
In the park, I’d been all day
Reading all my time away
On a park bench did I sit
Until the sky became twilit

As light for reading began to wane
I heard the tapping of a cane.
And looking up, to find that sound
‘Twas an old man which my eyes found

Bent of stature, with shuffling gait
And cane helping support his weight
He moved toward me in twilight glow
The beard he donned was white as snow

His hooded cloak there in place
Hid from view his bearded face
But … he moved on steadily
And closer then he came to me.

My gaze shifted to my book
As his passage overtook
My presence and my train of thought
On that park bench I had sought.

Then, unexpectedly,
I found the man right next to me
The hooded shroud was still in place
Preventing me to see his face.

Without a word the man sat down
And to my face that brought a frown
This bench I wanted not to share!
Yet he sat down without a care.

In protest was I about to speak
When he raised his hand antique
And then his voice commanding low
“I’ve something you should know”.

By his voice was I hypnotized
My entire being was tranquilized
I stared at antique hands so pale
Then began the old man’s tale:

“You’ll find a house not far from here
Filled with loathing, filled with fear
And you might wonder how I know
My presence here makes it so”.

“The house, it sits on Wilsons’ Hill
All abandoned, cold and still,
Trees stay barren, grass won’t grow
And constantly do ill winds blow.”

“Birds won’t fly, dogs won’t walk
Stray cats don’t even stalk
Across or near that House of Hate …
Listen now … ‘fore it’s too late!”

“From deep within that house at night
Emits an eerie, glowing light
Oh, that light … I know it well,
It’s emitted - straight from Hell!”

“Once a man of youth was I
Having aspirations to the sky,
And senses of immortality
And those of curiosity.”

“‘Twas one summer long ago
On a dare I was to go
Walk inside that House of Hate
Then return to re-instate,”

“Our belief and then decree
The house contained but normalcy.
I took the dare … I walked inside,
And since then I there abide.”

“Now, ’tis only once a year
That I’m allowed to quickly veer
Outside it’s walls, and rusted gate
And find someone to share my fate”

“To embrace the horror I’ve endured
To expand the evil I’ve assured
To return with me and be my mate
And share the Evil House of Hate.”

The old man then turned his head,
And as I looked with growing dread
His hooded shroud moved in place.
At last I saw his bearded face.

Within two hollows dark as night
His eyes were embers burning bright
And just before he cast his spell
In those embers I saw Hell.

Reaching forth his ancient hand
Whose touch would be my deadly brand
I jumped backward, as I screamed
I was quick, but slow it seemed.

I grabbed his cane, swinging hard
And caught the man quite off guard
I heard the thud, and filled with fear
With his status now unclear

But … for all the things I feared
I found the man had … disappeared.
No shoes, no cloak … it was plain
Left remaining: His walking cane.

Many years of time have passed
And I can tell you now … at last
‘Twas the cane the held my fate,
I live now, in the House of Hate.

So now ‘tis I, who will lonely stride
Through that park and take a ride
On a soul of someone there
And you, dear reader, need be aware.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 17
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Posted: 1/8/2007 10:40:33 AM
Ah! Spring! ‘Tis announced everywhere!
Grass turns green – birds grace the air
And at our feet, the ground becomes rife
With infant green sprigs – the beginning of Life

Upon a tree, tiny buds are there made
And in coming months will provide shade
To all that may find occasion to be
Frolicking there … under that tree.

Flowers in bloom, their colors explode
Inviting insects to come and freeload.
Sunshine, combined with spring rain,
Funds the eternal growing campaign

Spring’s the time when you and I see
Natures’ renewing of what Life can be
When all is compared to Natures’ Plan
We become insignificant, man.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 18
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They’re Free©
Posted: 1/9/2007 6:00:39 AM
Of material things … I have naught
Nor of them have I sought
My wealth contains experience
And a quiet reverence

Of things I’ve seen … for things I’ve done
Some were tragic … others fun
But, Youth I watch quietly
For within them I can see

Myself as I was years ago
As I learned the things I know
Their mistakes, I see too
What they do is nothing new

For someone, somewhere times before
Has opened up, and closed the door
On what Youth believes is new
Oh my, Life has news for you

A Life that lasts for years and years
Has seen the joys, has seen the tears
Has borne the scars, absorbed the dents
With experience as recompense.

But when The Youth has aged with time
And Maturity begins its’ rhyme
‘tis only then that they will know
Their treasures of experience show

That Life’s foundation of Truth and Love
Had always been the sturdy glove
That held together things of worth
Things they’ll find are free on earth.

And as my mind now recalls
All past joys - all pitfalls
My experience says to me:
“It’s true: Best things in life ARE free”.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 19
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The Rapist©
Posted: 1/9/2007 11:18:43 AM
We think of a rape as physical harm
And while that’s bad, there are police who can swarm
Around such rapists, and bring them, subdued,
Under the law, with justice accrued.

But there is no law, least none I can find
That prevents the rape of an innocent mind.
Minds controlled through emotional twists
Are the work of emotional rapists.

Emotional rapists are the worst kind of slime
They betray your love and eat up your time
Then intend to cause emotional pain
For their agenda and their personal gain

You trust them, you love them, you do what they want
You believe them to be a loving savant
But emotional rapists don’t care for you
‘Tis their agenda and what you can do

To further their mission which only they know
And hide their dark secrets which they’ll never show
Their hidden agenda they’ll keep from your view
Guarding its’ contents, as they hope to accrue

Agenda items within that they’ve named
Until you are ruined, until you’re defamed
Then, when you’re an emotional and financial wreck
They have what they want … you’ve signed their paycheck

‘Tis only then their mission is through
And they cast you aside, like an old shoe.
You stand there wondering what you have done
What terrible thing has caused them to shun

The loving, supportive person you’ve been
But your words, your love, they’ll never get in
For the only person that you had loved so
Has thrown you away as soured bread dough

Left in the wake of what you thought bliss
Is the toxic taste of your bitterness
And if you don’t find the passage way through
Twill be bitterness that consumes you.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 20
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Oops! Got Caught!©
Posted: 1/9/2007 6:20:30 PM
Now Amber my ex-wife is she
Demanded a high alimony
For parties and drink
I just don’t think
I’ll comply with the judges’ decree

A P.I. took photos for me
And ALL of Amber I see
With some guy in bed
I know she will dread
The loss of her alimony

Those photos of Amber in bed
(The ones I know she will dread
In them she’s nude
And so is the dude)
Taken while we were still wed!

Within these photos is proof
While livin’ under my roof
She thought she could screw
The dude (and me too!)
While remaining cool and aloof

Well, Amber, for you I’ve got news
You’ll be singing the blues
No alimony,
At least not from me
For you to buy rubbers and booze!

Now I hear Amber’s new dude
Thought those pictures were rude
He’s all upset
Now Amber will get
Served papers in which she’ll be sued.

And to the unfaithful uncouth
You’ll not find comfort or sooth
Through alimony
Or judges’ decree
When you tell lies and half-truth.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 21
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Missing Her©
Posted: 1/11/2007 10:43:01 AM
She sat in her chair as it rocked to and fro
The mornings’ light from the window
Illuminated her lined aged face
As somberly she gazed into space

Her worn gingham dress, tattered and frayed
Was evidence of the prices she’d paid
In tons of washed dishes, mountains of clothes
And past hardships of unlimited woes

T’was not the hardships or woes of the past
That stirred memories in her mind therein cast
But sunshine and laughter of decades long gone
That brought her to smile, and her chair to rock on

Quietly she on reminisced
Recalling the sweetness of her first kiss
And loving touches of her husband and mate
And the joys she remember of her wedding date

Then of her three children came memory
As infants she’d wondered what they would be
Doctors? Lawyers? Business tycoons?
But … they’d grown up, for her way too soon.

She recalled birthdays … she recalled friends
All of them gone … for time still ascends
Regardless of birth, living or death
Time will move forward until our last breath

And I? I still see her old rocking chair
And oh how I wish she were still there
Her warmth, her wisdom, her undaunted calm
I want her to know: I’m still missing you, Mom.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 22
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You, I and Life
Posted: 1/11/2007 5:27:18 PM
Salty and Social ...
Your insights are thought provoking ... perhaps they are others who will expand on the observations and philosophy you've brought forward for us to think about ...
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 23
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One or … the Other©
Posted: 1/11/2007 9:33:40 PM
There’s always love and hate,
Each awaits the others’ abate
When one wanes, the other grows
One holds hope – the other one woes.
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 24
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As One©
Posted: 1/12/2007 7:04:40 AM
So … here it is: My two cents
(I know that’s not much recompense
For using up this space and time
With this, my lowly rhyme.)

But … in this published poetry
I’ve read rhymes of majesty
Too, I’ve read some words from whence
I can simply make no sense

But making sense of what they write
Reflects only on my insight
And does not diminish - in any way
What it is they have to say

And in these pages as I drift
I read poets who have “The Gift”
In shock and awe do I read
And now I find I must concede:

Good or bad, short or long,
All these poets sing their song
All can see, there is NO doubt
‘Tis from their hearts these words ring out

So, I’ll not read them critically
For who the hell am I to be
In judgment of a poets heart
Of what’s inside which they impart

They open paths for their purvey
For they must say what they have to say
In their hearts they write As One
And to all I say: Wow! Well done!
Joined: 12/27/2006
Msg: 25
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The Train©
Posted: 1/13/2007 5:29:46 PM
A fascination in stories of long times ago
Had held my interest for I loved them so
And by one in particular was I enticed
Involving a train and a robbery heist.

The year: Eighteen and Seventy-six
The heist involved some future convicts
Some say twas Jesse and his brother Frank James
Long associated with robbing of trains

It was early July, the humidity high
With temperature nearly high as the sky
That night a train moved up a long hill
A plaque marks the spot to this day still

The robbers above, on a rocky steep bluff,
Above the train tracks – they saw the black puff
Of the smoke and soot the engine spewed out
And the engine labored as it continued its’ route

The passenger train filled with people and gold
Slowed on the grade as onward it rolled
The robbers awaited in their hiding place
Then … jumped on the train, leaving nary a trace

Brazen and daring the gunman strode in
Scaring passengers near out of their skin
Looting jewelry and gold with Colt .44s
Pleadings of passengers the gunmen ignores.

With the passengers’ cash stuck in their jar
The gunmen stormed the trains’ Express Car
17 grand to the robber’s coffers were fed
(At least that’s what the railway accountants had said)

Two of the trainmen, the gunmen shot dead
As Colt .44’s spit out their hot lead
The shooting of trainmen had not been a need
Maybe twas extension of their gluttonous greed

But the robbers? … they all got away clean
And were never after there again seen
At least not alive – but there’s rumors about
Of a ghostly white train still running that route

And late at night on a warm summer eve
When the moon is full, the moonbeams will weave
A long moving image in the moonlight
Of a white misted train there shining bright

Some people swear … some people believe
‘Tis those ghostly trainmen who want to retrieve
Their lives that were taken back in ‘76
And through replacements that wrong to unfix

Now it is said, on those long moonlight nights
When the train runs the track that through their dendrites
The ghostmen still look for those to imbue
And replace themselves within their venue.

And eternally thereafter those they’ve replaced
Will ride the ghost train forever encased
In misty white shades of ghostly white hues
And the curse of The Train in them abuse.

If the rumor be true, here’s a word for the wise:
I’d not be near train tracks under night skies
‘Cause the story of Jesse that I’ve told to you
Every last word of that story is true!

If I were you and had to travel at night
Sometime in July when the moon’s shining bright
I’d walk … take a car … or maybe a plane,
But I wouldn’t get into ANY white train.
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