Sandra's Poem
Some people will count the days by minutes and hours
I spend it thinking of you in a field full of flowers
I can see the look on your face and the wind in your hair
And I think upon ways to go from this place and to there
The sun begins to set as you wait in that place
My view becomes dim and my heart starts to race
Just one last glimpse and I think I will say
That now I can smile, and wait through the day.
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