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To all these stones, alleys and streets
the memories of you do cling.
The touch of your hand
that I still feel in mine
makes my heart silently sing.
And the sweet scent of your skin,
still lingering in the air,
is playing playful tricks on my mind
as I hear a voice whisper;
“she was there”,
“she was there”...
Just a little poem I wrote as I walked down memory lane

— The End —