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Oct 2019
The sky over peach hill
Was dulcet last I looked,
Without a hint of clammy March
In the middle of a bright July

The sky over peach hill
Had clouds surrounding the kites,
My girl and I would stare for hours
As hot-air balloons passed by

That sky over peach hill
Ever soft, ever sweet.
That was the place where I found
That life passes in a sigh

The peaches fell,
And august came.
My girl went away,
I was left behind.

The sky over peach hill
Looks a little darker now.
But I know once winter ends
The kites will fly again
Written by
Josiah Bates  17/M
(17/M)   
563
   Fawn
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