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It Is Called Time

The entity called Time is a gracious wonder,
Or do we say of everything the same way;
Because of the energy and the commodity
A Christendom bespeaks and lungs inflate
To occupy more religious conversation.
I know the respect of a sudden generation,
Seeds are of the fruit, memories align along
The pews of moods, swift reasons adjust
The highly expressive thoughts of a failing joy.
The Time of this period in war is a time for peace,

Feelings are pacts or fillings of the teeth in
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Saturday, December 27, 2014
Topic(s) of this poem: time
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