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￭ s m i l e
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2018-02-09 | |
It is strange to think
All that I own in this world
Will still be here
Even when I will be forever gone
That made me laugh and cry
Up on my shelf waiting to be read again
A half written poem...
Waiting for one more rhyme
That will never come
An unfinished painting...
Sitting next to a wet brush
My coffee cup...
Empty, inside the kitchen cabinet
I walked the streets in
Still hanging in my closet for a while
The house ...
Where I raised my children
Looking sad, so empty and quiet
That have heard and seen so many
Will stand as witnesses of my life
All of these and many more
Will be reminders that I used to be here,
As a simple passenger towards my final destination.
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