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Jan 2014
I’ll tell you what we were. 

We were sparks 
just after the light died ,
when all of the excitement 
in the night faded 
and only ash and burn marks were left. 

We were the quiet expectation 
in between the roaring thunder. 

We were the puddle 
but never the rain. 

We were always 
what could have been,

except sometimes,

we were.
Zoromir
Written by
Zoromir  United Kingdom
(United Kingdom)   
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