Poetry

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I use to dream that everything would be fine. But I've almost forgotten where the roses once grew, and where the light never touched your yard. I can still remember how the grass felt and the scent of flowers as they bloomed. The shadow of the tree and where it loomed, and your presence how it lingered but too soon was gone. The days cold since you left and took with you the sun.

I use to dream that you would get better, but that gardens now gone. And the house that you lived in is no longer ours. My fingers still reminiscing of floral wallpaper and of the grooves of that tree. And how I would feel the breeze as you pushed me in that swing...

                      ... I use to dream



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