#105-A part of me

Summer passed,

Autumn arrived,

And as winter nears,

I’ll fly away from here…

- - - - - -

Looking down,

I see the building where I worked,

And the old narrow streets,

I once called home:

Walking late at night,

Trying to forget time.

Soon I’ll say goodbye,

Not to the city,

But a part of life,

That’s not coming back.

Leaving is sad,

But growing old, nice.

Memories last,

And I’ll come back,

To relive them many more times…

 

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#106-Lived

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#104-Wooden dreams