Our visions, that we see,
Never are the same,
Mine are realistic,
Yours are just a game.
We can see the beauty,
The stars, bring at night,
Stare at them for hours
Never seeing, the light.
The moon appears,
So big, bold, and bright,
Itβs the suns reflectionβ
Illuminating, our
evening nights.
The trees are swaying,
Are they waving, at you and me,
The force behind them,
The wind we will never see.
Our life this time,
Not a rehearsal for a play,
It could end, at any moment,
Then you will look, at those wasted days.
Those lost years, are gone,
You can not go back, and change,
For the time thatβs left,
You can start to rearrange.
There will always be things,
That are different than what we see,
Why add more confusion,
Saying words, you do not believe.
Tom Maxwell Β© 01/03/2004 AD