Choices
Echoes without footsteps
Lost somehow
All alone
The mist is rolling in
Which way to choose
The treacherous way
After all, what is there to lose
SORROW
It seems,you always follow the wrong path
The Moons gentle touch
And the way is clear at last
Embrace what was nearly destroyed
Your spirit is more powerful than you know
Now, for yourself has become of yourself
On this journey you grew
Wendi Hirschy-Boutwell
April 1999
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