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When the Sun Sets
When the sun sets,
In a place that I know,
I sigh with regrets,
For I know I must go,
And I wonder,
With curiosity heightening,
As I hear the thunder and see the lightning,
Who preceded me here?
The ground below is worn,
So who before heard a storm near,
Yesterday morn,
Or a Saturday night three months ago?
Who here saw last years’ light,
Bathed decades ago in the warm summer sun’s glow?
I haven’t a thought,
And I wonder not,
Who will be here next, for it does not perplex,
I live in the past,
And care only for our woes,
Who was here last?
Only one person knows.

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