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Occupation: -
Member Since: December 2001
Last Login: 12/19/2021
There was a place we would run and play
Where our hopes and dreams were given
The breath of life, by our words
Somehow we grew older
But not so very wise
Put on airs and some sort
Of grown up disguise
The silences grew longer
Our words more scarce
Our hearts became sorer
Poetry rare
I miss the days
When our words flowed free
I miss the days when we played
You and me
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