"Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows." James 1:17 Word Count: 256,703 Days writing in a row: 181
Saturday, December 7, 2013
Poem
Some days I close my eyes
And see the way things used to be
The past sneaks back on creeping tip-toes
But his whispers matter little
When the future beckons
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