Tuesday, May 30, 2017

Old Friendships

Sometimes I think of them, Who were once too familiar, I think of them, I think of them, behind a curtain of laughter, a smile I want to shake them, I want to shake them, and ask Remember? Don't you remember? Perhaps with every shake they'll only rattle like a broken wooden doll that can no longer sing, And I'll look at my fingers And find they are not my fingers anymore...

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