It seldom weakens the soul
For it's rare to occur
Futile at times
When man's being unwise
But, the grace is foretold
To stay until you're old
If you only see,
Behind the facade it unfolds
And so, it's rare
Who cares if it's rare?
As long as when it comes,
Though it seldom comes
You know that it's you
Who is true,
In spite of being torn
By him, who weakens you
just posted this recently in another site ...
don't know why I'm gettin'
poetic these days?,
must be due to time...the availability of it
not what you think it is...hahaha:)
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