But cannot reach me all,
And cannot say goodbye
What as of yet can be done,
Is articulated herein
The Aching tilt of the sun
Of a thriving time,
Held on too tight
Atop a pin.
But cannot reach me all,
And cannot say goodbye
What as of yet can be done,
Is articulated herein
The Aching tilt of the sun
Of a thriving time,
Held on too tight
Atop a pin.
Makes me remember the little things.
Simple and raw. Good poem.
-Sadia
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😊, Thank you!
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Wow!
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Thank you 💜!
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