Just A Passing Thought. 


Oldie but goldie, Poetry

Why did I dream of the sky,

When the earth is where I belong.


Six by seven by three and a half,

Life is as fickle as a laugh.

Just a passing thought, my friend,

Just like all springs do end.

Just a passing thought, indeed,

Like when one can no longer bleed,


When all in the end is a handful of dust,

When one cannot still one’s wander-lust.

Just a passing thought, my friend,

When in the end there is nothing to defend,

When life can no longer be defied,

When every fortune-teller, you feel, lied,

When hope becomes a bygone season,

When breathing seems without a reason.


Just a passing thought, I tell you,

Just the wind blowing by you.

Just the water flowing in a stream.

Just a whim, just a dream.

Just the wind in the secrets that we keep.

Just the secrets in the night that make us weep.


Just one’s conscience driving one mad.


Just the emptiness one wishes one never had.


Just a passing thought, my friend,

Just like all winters do end.

Just the end of a wintry thaw.

Just the light I thought I never saw.

Just a passing thought, my friend,

Just a passing thought.

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