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The Dance
Every night I dance with the memories
and all the pain.
When I wake in the morning
I'm never the same.
All day I go through
with a constant ache.
Questioning the day's resolve
and will I make.
And then like a butterfly
my spirits lift.
No more rowing through life's current
now I just drift.
Falling asleep to the music
of all songs I chose.
Each tune playing a memory
as my eyes close.
The melody of hope
to fill the heart.
Last night of the wrestling
the dance to part.
Copyright ©
matthew adams
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