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WORDS
Words overflown,
Words we wished could have been shown,
In the soul of every faint heart are words deeply rooted,
Words that were roughly sown,
To the people that come and go,
People we wished should have known,
The words are a reminder of stories long ago told,
Stories with endings that were readily sold,
And so,
As time flows, as time goes,
The words dissipate, they become one with the mist and no longer show,
A heavy price to pay,
But a worthwhile alternative so to say.
© misteri