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Yesterdays
Aren't we sick of yesterdays
that got us where we are?
All the yesterdays that got us here
and still we've not gotten far.
Aren't we tired of the yesterdays
that seem to haunt our dreams?
All the yesterdays have become todays
and nothing changes it seems.
Aren't we afraid of the yesterdays
that have never gone away?
All the yesterdays have come again
and now we have to pay.
The price we pay for yesterdays
is the sorrow we see today.
For the masses have become so used to them
that their feet are stuck in clay.
poem
by
Edwina Reizer
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