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May 2023
I hear them stories
Of how the days went by
For the elderly
Who once lived a life
I witness everything in black and white
As their eyes speak the truth
Filled with love and light
In front of me
Are the trees they climbed
And the stars they counted
On a quiet friday's night
Oh how I wish I could hear the rhyme
Of the birds and the wind
That once ruled the skies
So I drown in the memories
Of an age never known
As I grieve at the loss of
The wonders of a lost time
I worry that their stories might disappear with them.
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