Friday, April 26, 2013

Pine Street Passerby

The unmatched beauty of a passerby
brings clarity to this hour.
Fateful few seconds bring one's thoughts into focus.
Conveying feelings incurred from fleeting moments on Pine Street
is the only things that matters.
Having to pull over in this park and write this letter is evident. 
Whether it ends up in your hands remains to be seen.
As the street lamps partake in the changing of night and day,
wrestling twilight to its certain end.
I realize I must go, and I haven't even said what I wanted to say.
Just like when I passed you by.

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