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Under the Midnight Moon
In the still of the night, by the promise of the moonlight
Whispers of the wind, all I could hear are memories
Scattered stars hold my thoughts like silhouettes
Flashing on the clouds, the torn pages of my youth
For awhile, a cloud crept across the face of the moon
As dark as my old character, a stubborn child, I recalled
Now, my son is my mirror and I can feel inside of me
Those I took for granted he’s now feeding back to me
I must weld your dreams and restore your strength
With my bare hands to suffer for I am to be blamed
As long as there’s tomorrow for what I less-treasured
This wind that whispered by is another lesson I heard
So, again I clasp my hands to prolong this life I borrowed
Direct me right so I can pay him greater than what I owed
poem
by
Efren Petalver Carranza
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