The still pools reflection, what clarity, within its deepest depths it holds? <br />Until a trouble mind bestirs, silts of time. Looking for what else unfolds. <br /> <br /> <br />In comes morning, hauling death. Don't close your eyes <br />There's only another fifty years worthless wondering left.<br /><br />Mark Heathcote<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/two-poems-of-two-line-poems/
