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As I stand here on my porch,
Looking o'er the way,
I see the things that are not there,
Even so they make me sway.
I hear the music that has not played,
I hear the laughter not given voice,
I look at life from a different way,
And think, Damn, there is a choice.
We all choose the roads we travel down,
On our way thru life,
But sometimes we need to turn around,
And see who is playing the fife.
Sometimes we think we are marching,
To our own tunes, but instead,
We are just following the crowd,
That is putting the music in our head.
So remember that the choice yours,
No one else's opinion mattered
Choose the road that is best for you,
Don't let your dreams become shattered.
Copyright 2008 William M. Ward
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