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A tribute to my friend,Young Master Blake
To stare into one’s past is a harrowing task, once smug and frightened.
We near the middle of our journeys knowing the outcome, with all clarity. To waver , would end the course of such thing’s I have dreamed. The path I have chosen thru my sightless journey narrows .
To stare into one’s past. A chance to dance with one’s fate, I sense.
Shall I, if only to turn the wind’s of time for one so young.
My eye’s are open , yet my thought’s, only voice’s, sound’s.
Youth a quickening of one’s heart, scared wanting to trust , reach out to open one’s eye’s to except joy.
Once again.
Is this a gift, one‘s life.
Surely a gift.
To stare into one’s past.
I am filed with such joy , which I mask as sorrow. .
We will never miss you Blake, fore you will always be in our thoughts.
Garrett Aug. 12 07
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