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Wednesday, November 10, 2004
Simple Poem
I was a child once,
I swung my arms around the rusted swing
Going back and forth until my hands were tired.
I was a child once,
When the smaller things
Seemed to give so much satisfaction.
Back then,
Life was layered with
The simplest things.
And now,
I have lost it.
I am no longer a child.
Enjoy well these days
You have to enjoy
In innocent bliss.
For one day,
They shall be taken
As nothing taken before.
Still,
It seems I see some shadow
Of a thing
Going back and forth
On a swing,
Smiling the truest smiles
That ever touched this face.
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