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White Halls


White Halls

As I walked down the corridor I pulled out my crayon.

Walked about fifteen feet.

Then I turned left.

Backed up and turned right.

Why did I turn right.

The hall here was white, bright white.

I started writing in words I had never seen before.

I wrote in dead languages.

White walls were no longer white.

Mathematic algorithms.

Things long gone and forgotten.

Architecture from eons across the galaxy.

Was I walking towards the light before I died.

They always say your life flashes before your eyes.

This was not my life.

This was the life of billions of like-minded ideas planted.

Gone in a flash, time stood still.

This was not reality just a dream I thought.

Is my creation gone.

Would there be a birth of new ideas from loss of billions snuffed out.

                                                                      Time is gone and will not tell.                                      
                                                                        This is the beginning, this is zero-hour.

Before the year 2001 the world freaked out, what will happen? Nothing happened... we're all still here and the computers are all intact. Well everyday is zerohour when you wake up. Things don't necessarily reset but you get a chance to make today different. 

This Poem is one of my all time favorites I have ever written. Dreams that coincide with great ideas seem to never end but just start over.

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