The run aournd

Some place where the sun is but a yellow ball in the sky

And no sound echoes in the rivers of night

Animals walk without fear in their heart,

shades of colors feast for the eyes

When those who stare can only see the run around

Places as far and wide as the universe spins

to edges of the mind where only the children can sing

Far into the land of mist they travel

in a water basket of musty old bagles

Where those who care only find the run around

In a gentle grasp of a wave gone wrong

the chalice of gold is now lost yet found

nothing good from darkness can come

but still it is near ever to be bound

And those who can feel find the run around

Note: A little poem that came from nowhere, settled in my mind and left to be here…

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