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Goodbye July, August, and Ellie

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There are those little things
That don't even cross our minds
The gentle way the breeze
Combs the tangled leafs
It's the soft patter
Of a little pair of feet
Even the rain as it beats
Against an empty street
Or the color of your eyes
As they peer through the night
Or the sounds of a heart
Beating in time with mine.



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