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Thoughts That Remain
Deeply missed,
Are those once close to me.
Parents, friends...
And blood relatives,
I would often see...
In dreams,
As I did sleep.
It is as if,
They are not deceased at all.
As we would laugh and joke...
Like regular folks.
Until I would awaken...
To the arrival of dawn and chirping bird calls.
Deeply missed,
Are conversations wished.
And as each season comes to fade away...
I feel within me their presence so familiar.
With thoughts that remain,
In my mind where their faces and appearances stay.
poem
by
Lawrence S. Pertillar
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