the river flows

At first we share
To left and right
For new affair,
Forgetting quite.

Then, when we split,
Each one on shore,
We;ll see the deep
Without door.

No wade, no bridge,
Just life of guilt.
Cain loves the widge
With hilt of gilt.

The river flows.
Don;t care at all.
Who's laughing - foes.
Castoff - alone.

Picture:Andrew Newell Wyeth. On the Edge. 2001­


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