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Rated: E · Poetry · Melodrama · #2215284
peering through the weeds into the past...
Peering through the weeds;
Detrus and decay of years,
Mostly hidden from the eye,
I spy the overgrown
And lost remnants
Of a past so unlike today.
I wonder why we discarded
And forgot all the things
That were our forever
Here in this pile of trash
That was a home.
I feel like I am also overgrown.
Not over you, and not grown,
Just overgrown and hidden.
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