Days of Auld Lang Syne
You'll live inside my memory book
Sometimes I'll go back and look
Your image there won't fade away
A thousand years sharp as today
At one-o-five (105) if I'm still here
I'll open up that book so dear
And write through hands that then will shake
One last poem for old time's sake
Copyright © Andres Luis Bigote | Year Posted 2024
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