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All the Days Gone

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A short poem about memory and the distance between what has been and should be.

For all the days gone in the evenings

I see now things not the same

I dare yet to feel at my will

As one always takes it aback

How much had my day tore apart

In two: what has been and should be

And now the more I think of it

That at once I saw again

I woke through the day without waking yet

Waited, and then waited to be started

Hey!.. Me! There is still time in here

Should I hear a response, then here I would be

To sleep again is to die for nothing

To die again is to sleep no more

My heart can be heard wide, from somewhere

I am here and still long to last

By looking around I could stumble

My mind is in this but a trap!

How mulled am I in the laughter that came

Only that it did the same day as the others

Another day yet? Because I did wait

"What did you say, again?"

Again, most find it confusing

But I know that it is still today...

I shall never waste time while in vigil

Who's then to realize while I even wrote?

I never wrote whilst being around

I heard it was me, today

So asking those around, again

Could all the good angels fly close?

Repeated, their pauses went on

Disrupted by all the days gone.