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Memories
June 7, 2011
The air,
Sharp as a razor,
How it cut through out lips.
The rain,
How it slipped from our faces,
And no one else mattered.
The clouds,
How they made your face glow,
And my feelings grow.
The air,
Sharp as a knife,
How it cut through my heart.
The rain,
How it hid my tears,
As you walked out of my life.
The clouds,
How it made my eyes turn gray,
Now all it is -- is a memory.
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