there is no colour left on this old day
and meaning cannot wait for rising moon
truth is conveyed to us by a buffoon
you make a choice and then you have to play
life turns on what is not truly a boon
there is no colour left on this old day
the very silence knows that what you say
is matter for some summer afternoon
but we are in the realm of swift lampoon
there is no colour left on this old day
26 July 2008
in proper haste
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