Published March 2, 2007
The dark candle
burns with memories,
both ends alight,
Inebriated?
No.
Just stoned from birth,
but never forgotten.
The dark secrets,
Of a nuns dress,
The hair of time,
weaved full of stories.
Exaggerated?
No.
Just polished with time
but never fogotten.
A tug, a sleep, a walk, a weep,
but never forgotten.
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