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Our flutes still silently sit there, reflections engraved within those                            precious moments. Sullen clouds linger before us,                   tears filling an ocean, now falling like a waterfall of regrets. That flower, a plastic representation. You never wished it to fade, like our love, continual and never wilting. Within our leaving, fate tore us apart.              leaving that moment, echoes of our reflections entombed still holding on.
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May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 11:41 AM UTC
When Flutes Are Empty
Our flutes still silently sit there, reflections engraved within those                            precious moments. Sullen clouds linger before us,                   tears filling an ocean, now falling like a waterfall of regrets. That flower, a plastic representation. You never wished it to fade, like our love, continual and never wilting. Within our leaving, fate tore us apart.              leaving that moment, echoes of our reflections entombed still holding on.
poetic-t
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May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 11:41 AM UTC
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