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Rated: E · Poetry · Personal · #1739368
I might believe again...One day.
Heaven...

Walking slow.
Blisters on my feet.
Nobody owes me...
Anything.
Moving town to town.
Air is cold.
Memories of being a kid.

A simple thing it is.


Breathe deep...
Smells remind me of when,
I was anxious for the days when these,
Would be a memory.

I now wish I was there again.


Leaves were red and yellow...now fallen...
Snow fresh...
It is the same.
Heaven owes me nothing.
I'm already there.
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