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Sunday, September 27, 2015

1727

One Thousand Seven Hundred Twenty Seven,

I counted them over
 
Those are days…not just numbers

Those are moments…not just chapters

One Thousand Seven Hundred Twenty Seven,

Are just but some years and a few
 
Years that are eons but nothing the earth knew

Years as finite as the morning to night

As vivid as your vows is your swiftest goodbye

One Thousand Seven Hundred Twenty Seven, It was short but not quite

It was as boundless as time yet it ended somehow

Where the sunrises are sweet…but the sunsets sweeter

Shall I stay a little longer, I pondered and hoped

But the book, you said, must close

Now that thousand or so days are the past

Where the songs, dreams, bliss, and I are left to dance

One Thousand Seven Hundred Twenty Seven days…

Those are Me.

The only life I knew.

The days I owned with You.

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