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Apr 2020
The night smells sweet,
The music plays far off,
The trees hardly swaying.
You walk with sad steps,
Soft stars glitter in the breeze,
The Chinese lanterns hang in the sky.

You are crying but no tears come,
Your lips don’t make a sound.
Your head is like a pitcher emptied of water -
In the distance on a pretty bench, a pretty couple kiss,
It is Summer again.
Noah Ducane
Written by
Noah Ducane  20/M/Washington state
(20/M/Washington state)   
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