Time erases people erases pain erases confusion
People build structures upon the cemeteries of their past
Rivers of experience of preoccupation of denile
Deposit silt and sediment upon memory plains
We walk away we drift away we fade away
With the wind with the rains with the tide
Our tears become ocean currents and disappear with granuals of sand
Our smiles become the dawn, the midday sun, the various stations of the moon
Ross Jason Goldstein -- January 25, 2000
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