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At Night
Summer is not quite fulfilled
until a campfire night
Though my hair is filled with
ashes and smoke
and quite a nasty smell.
I wonder how my fire’s doing
I left it all alone
The embers’ heat were fading
into ashes like my soul.
My heart once beat a lovely tune
‘Love’ it sang and played.
But reality has struck me hard
and I do not feel the same.
poem
by
D.M.L. Catseye
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