Grief, they say, will go away,
But mine is here to stay,
Following me around
Without making a sound.
Getting ready for my tears
As I get dressed and fear
The plant that I hold dear,
Because you are no longer near.
One moment of anguish—
Now I languish.
I see a glimpse of you
Staring through
The window of my soul.
Breathing hope is the goal.
Your brown...
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