My memory might be fade,
My eyesight might be blurred,
My hair might be falling out,
My joints might be stiffed
My heart might be stop,
But I will never forget how we metOne day my warmth getting cold
I just want to grow old
With you,
my untold-Spring Holiday
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YOU ARE READING
a Cup of Imperfect Poetry
PoesiaThere will always be imperfection that will be filled with unexpected things. And that is you. Someone who completes a part of my life.