Sitting in the grove where I once played,
Retying a string that used to look frayed,
The string in itself, both fragile and strong,
Was part of a stronger rope all along,
My fears still haunt me, these ghosts of my past,
Wishing, for memories like these to last.
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Poems
PoetryI suck with creative titles so if anyone has any suggestions feel free to tell me. Yup, this is full of poems.
