#1092-Drift
27/07/2020
[section_tc][column_tc span=’12’][text_tc timing=’linear’ trigger_pt=’0′ duration=’1000′ delay=’0′]
Tonight,
Clouds may cry.
Their tears laying waste,
To weeks of work,
And hope.
Seasons pass.
Sweat dampens the earth.
But little really changes.
Dreams,
Like clouds,
Drift.
[/text_tc][/column_tc][/section_tc]
