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the flowers of youth are growing brown around your garden
the leaves fall and the buds grown tight, no longer unfolding

bridges lose their bearings and rivers catch them falling
the splintered wood float like so many boats drifting

things decay, strength is forgotten in the face of weakness
loneliness conquers even the memory of brighter hours

soon your face will be a small photograph almost like a stamp
on a very important letter that i mailed to someone very far away

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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