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From the album, "Always This" available here: http://joshuaworden.bandcamp.com
There is no form - no way of waiting
I have become a shadow on window grating
Watching seasons come
It’s winter in the Bronx
oh ad naseum
Life is for the young
There is no form – no way of aging gracefully
More people gone; newspapers list them for me
I am not alone
we all make time our home
to dust we all are blown
the ground which we once sowed
There is no place; no place to ask the silence
What faded page, what words would make this crying
heart feel like a rose?
Change the river’s flow.
Stop this growing old.
Nothing I suppose.