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Rated: E · Poetry · Melodrama · #2162535
Another empty house.
I was listening to
“The House of The Rising Sun,”
our forever song and thinking
about the memories
we left behind on a park bench
outside Jackson Square.

And although that house
down in New Orleans
was far different than
our later humble abode
in the coldness of North Dakota,
it is now as empty,
lonely and ruined as my heart.

It is a wonder
‘forever’ means the same
no matter where you go,
and it still became our loves’ great lie.
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