The most tragic part of losing people is the redundant memories they leave behind. You could be sitting in a cafe, sipping on your warm cappuccino, and all of a sudden your mind decides to reel back to the late winter of January, when you left your home town and all the people behind, people you never stayed in contact with and those who you could have easily forgotten, but their redundant memories persisted to stay.
YOU ARE READING
the blue and the solace
Poetrya poetry, thoughts and an excerpts collection. - #8 in poetry - #2 in poem