When
When I run out of things to say
I can no longer put pen to paper
That's when flowers loose their fragrant
alluring scent.
When I no longer have a voice-
I can no longer pen my heart
That's when I become as a mime who has
lost all motion.
For I can no longer express my love
How very much you mean to me
Then shall my memories dry up as the
sands of time.
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