A groundswell rambling turbulence
Cascading lights to rearrange
Too much forwarding to later dates
False hope can’t hold back change
Favourite colours painting later scenes
Too new to take for granted
As the forest they cut down last week
In space and time must be re-planted
Cutting back is making other ways
To find how pain is more relieving
All anchor points have been replaced
On quicksand beeches interleaving
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