Posts
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Before
I miss the days
When we would run through the fields
And swim in the pond all day
Smiling and using kayaks
I miss the nights
Loves
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They knew what could be
The little girl sat in her swing
blond curls the way they are before
you grow up the everywhere I don't care
it looks like my hair was woven from sunlight
a throne for a flower crown.
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Who will speak at the earth’s funeral?
Even if was never
About legacy
Your memory
Cannot mean nothing
Your family
Should remember you
And admittedly
No matter what we say
This
Is true.
So whoWill speak
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