Bittersweet
The willow whistles in the breeze
as we stroll down the
new concrete
chatting about nothing.
We laugh, and talk of good times,
old times,
together times.
Wind whips our faces.
Rain starts to fall.
We smile with our lips,
freezing as the rain
spatters and spits.
I look at you,
you take my hand,
And misery is no longer
hidden.
You look up,
into the heavy sky
which reveals
what I can not.
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Here and Now
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