A Season of Awakening.
The hours of the day pass so quickly
that we rush through them
at every chance
But what purpose does this rushing
ever accomplish for us
The days pile behind us
as we fail to see how many
remain ahead
Needless hurry and worry
The future comes soon enough
Yet it is always here
Though we will
never last
How easy is it to become weary and dispirited
at our world?
I don't want to see you cry
I want to see you live again
Darling, survive, persist.
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