Though time may wear and weary wisdom fade,
This foolish heart refuses to grow old;
It stumbles through the mess of errors made,
And hopes for grace before the tale is told.
I lose my way and let the hours depart,
Floating alone upon a misty stream,
Where gentle winds console a stubborn heart,
And brush my cheek to keep alive the dream.
They kiss my face and whisper through the air:
"No matter what the passing years may cost,
The child remains forever beating there,
Whose pure and simple wonder is not lost."
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