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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

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Book: Reflection on the Important Things