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Bare and empty streets,
In need of rich, vibrant life.
Blame it on the ice.

Few strung lights remain;
Orbs that tell of distant past,
Now all forgotten.

What tales could you tell?
If you had a voice to speak.
We’d love to hear them.

Walking your pavement
Is a most lonely journey.
Who would dare take it?

We can only hope
New seasons bring better times.
Until then it’s goodbye.



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