We are but a shadow of our past,A requiem of themagniloquentpoetry.The magnificence of the first light of dawn.

We are but our success and failures.A dreamer stuck in quagmire of loss and gain.A birdposses-edby the need to be ahead of the flock.

A caravan on a long journey, some on route, some lost and some lost yet foundWe are but the tired smile of shade of our pathWe are but the haunted conjecture of the road not taken.

A sojourn for life, a sojourn for love,a sojourn for discovery.We are but our poise and the rush of everything everywhere.We are but the conclusion of her smile, her tears and her eyes.

A life spent living or a life spent being spentWe are but the desperation that creates fireWe are but the content that seeks the ignorant heat.

Time breaks,moldseverything;We are but the people we touch, break and love.We are but the best and worst of us.

A few dreams forgotten, a few lost and a few still fueledby heart; We are but a dream we woke up from .We are but a dream we refuse to shrug off.