Cans of hot coffee on a rainy night,glistening , the sparkles of stars up high
Our coats hanged behind the clodset, and how the warmth of the coffee, eases the cold out
Counting the passing days
As much as how many stars orn to the night sky and nowhere the next day
How the leaves bristle and wind dances through it's stalk
What humming birds are whistling , while the flapped their wings and mice hang their heads high
Our lives fly beyond the sky
Blue with white spreading of clouds
Happiness is always a mystery
A question we ask countless times
It lost it's philosophical meaning..
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