We would walk together,
sometimes hand in hand,
some alone.
We’d come upon a patch of
Sycamore trees.
We’d meet inside and play
romantic games.
Today felt different she wasn’t
there. I could feel her energy.
She was saying good bye,
alone.
Here I will focus the writing on poetry and commentary.
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We would walk together,
sometimes hand in hand,
some alone.
We’d come upon a patch of
Sycamore trees.
We’d meet inside and play
romantic games.
Today felt different she wasn’t
there. I could feel her energy.
She was saying good bye,
alone.
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