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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536842" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Years</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><a href="http://www.citatepedia.com/comments.php?id=536842" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none">The years go by breeze on vine along<br>the long circles of time.The telling<br>of season gives and strips away.Makes<br>one look at the past reflectng days.<br>through the interior eye there will<br>be dreams.The reality of tears on field<br>and stream.The turning page of age sets<br>on brisk wings.Living joys and pains<br>stroke the violin strings.Things beginning<br>and ending cycle is universal.In our<br>tumbling existence there is good and <br>there is evil.So the stories flow with<br>the passing years.</a></div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><a href="http://poems.citatepedia.com/">poem</a> by <strong><a rel="author" href="http://authors.citatepedia.com/by.php?a=William+Blackman">William Blackman</a></strong></div>

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