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What Was Never True
A memory covering charcoal dark nights
The black framed mirror reflecting no lights
As our heads meet on the same pillow
I forget about me as a useless widow.
Maple leaves are stuck under the weight of flakes
It is not only me whose existence aches
And again I must think of the alarming waves
That once were brought by what my fate still craves.
To recall a path which once meant so much
And understand there was never one such
I tell myself those cold black nights
Are to relive my once imagined sights.
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