A Dim-Lit Day Ifl
On a dim-lit day of drizzle
I sit beneath the same old oak
where we carved hearts with our names
amused by how child-like it was
I feel a need on this date to remember
really remember, the passing of years
covered in the dust beneath the cluttered cobwebs
that hang in my soul,
of tear-stained dormant memories
and what were joyous times
spent with you
until the Angles came
and I became a broken wheel
on the pain-soaked path to nowhere
2/4/23
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