Time
Smoke slowly climbs
skyward
from the bright, dwindling end of my cigar.
The wind whirls it away,
and sweeps my hair across my shoulder
Prompting memories of those days
when we would twirl
in our matching dresses
untouched by time or pain.
Now
we have done away with innocence
No more dreams of far off lands,
only reality.
skyward
from the bright, dwindling end of my cigar.
The wind whirls it away,
and sweeps my hair across my shoulder
Prompting memories of those days
when we would twirl
in our matching dresses
untouched by time or pain.
Now
we have done away with innocence
No more dreams of far off lands,
only reality.
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