Wednesday, May 11, 2005


echo... echo... echoes
all around the faded ghosts
row after row
lonely ground below
sound has taken no existence here
if you listen very hard, you might hear
voices of the past
whispering secrets
cold is the air
moving your hair
step by step, life breaks the silence
face after face comes into existence
a bell screams and screams
people break out of hour long dreams
the voices of the past diminish
lost forever behind a new existence

© 1996, 2005 thomas bates

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