A pot of mud

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pBg1TEgbBcsv.jpglast night the girl was thirteen
This morning she is thirty
To look out of her window
Asking 'where did the days go?
Like pages of an open book
Turned by the wind

But that is truth and that is life
To sleep a child and wake a woman
And your memory of all between
As clear as a pot of mud
While you are ready
Like a clown on the battleground

A pot of mud | Ecency