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Nov 2019
She was a beautiful girl
with intense eyes
and long black hair.

We would sit
on the windy cliff
till the Sun
went over the hill,
and
she would sing to me
and talk to me
about life;
that promised to be ours.

Then,
the evening would take
deeper, softer shades
and we would go
our own separate ways
waiting......
for the next day's meeting.

Today,
as I write about
those lively days,
I can still
feel the gaze
of dreamy,
eager eyes
of that beautiful girl
whose life and dreams
oozed away quietly
through the hole
in her heart.
Inspired by: Nostalgia and helplessness narrated by a long-lost colleague. I have forgotten names. Only the essence remains.
Written by
Chandra S  Right here, right now
(Right here, right now)   
151
   Max Neumann
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