Are mostly so changing...
Sometimes they hit you like a knife,
With the sharp end,
They take you're breath away,
Stop you're heartbeat and leave you bleeding...
Yet other changes,
Come as called for,
It's noting like a knife then,
More like a knife turned the blund way around,
More like breathing for the first time again,
Or rain after dryness,
Maybe changes,
Aren't so changing at all,
Maybe it's more about...
They way you look at them...
Changes are just,
Chances in disguise,
I think...

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