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Jun 2015
Dear Old Friend,
I thought of you today,
but of course you'd never know.
I have words for you in eraser shavings
in notebooks between pages
I'll never put in an envelope to send to you.
Our promises quickly became
echoes in a ballroom where
we never learned how to dance.
Your voice faded in the way
a flower dies without the sun.
I lost you as you found your way.
I lost myself as you found another heart to hold.
My Old Friend,
that's all you'll ever be.
Dust upon ashes of the burned letters
that were supposed to mean something.
Because time is in numbers,
and you've already passed.
Written by
   --- and Mark Parker
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