The hands on the clock never faulted, not for a second. One day ended; and a new began. If there was one thing on this earth that could be counted on, it was that. Time never paused to mourn the dead. That particular privilege is allotted to the living. It is for the survivor to mourn, bury the dead, and leave the rest to the earth.
That is they way of it – the way of death - and the misery it leaves behind.

Autor: Patti Roberts

The hands on the clock never faulted, not for a second. One day ended; and a new began. If there was one thing on this earth that could be counted on, it was that. Time never paused to mourn the dead. That particular privilege is allotted to the living. It is for the survivor to mourn, bury the dead, and leave the rest to the earth. <br />That is they way of it – the way of death - and the misery it leaves behind. - Patti Roberts


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