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Izzah Batrisyia Apr 2015
The slightest hope I had,
Still clinging onto your fingers,
Even when we're light years apart,
And the closest thing to you is the moon.

Are your hours longer,
Is your flame still burning strong,
Do you look into the sky,
Wonder what if you hadn't gone?

I wish I could hold your hand,
So bits of your hope would cling on to me,
But I cease to exist in your dimension,
Yet you still linger in my reality.
(I haven't seen the movie)
© 2015 Izzah Batrisyia

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