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Jun 2021
Near my house there's a bench,
it used to be mine and hers,
we'd sit and watch the sunset,
our hands chilling together.
Then we'd walk down a side street
that led to her place
walking hesitantly, at our slowest pace.
As time passed we walked faster
and grew further apart,
our hands were now separate,
then we had our last night.
Ꭷ Ꮇ Ꮛ Ꮐ Ꭺ
Written by
Ꭷ Ꮇ Ꮛ Ꮐ Ꭺ  23/M/NotFoundYet
(23/M/NotFoundYet)   
136
   Brett
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