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| >> Static Item >> Poetry >> Emotional >> ID #1298799 |
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Do we remember of tomorrow's memories?
One knows not truth of those futures; Today, I laugh; Tomorrow perhaps I cry; Upon the death of my loves. Should I love them; Inasmuch as they're alive? Should I care; When I breathe? No lie or doubt for thee; The future is death. Thus why should I love you; If you'll wilt; Thence fall to the earth; Like a dried, dead flower? Because you and I are alive; Closely in this world; My friend.
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