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Writer's pictureDebbie Dalton

Soft Voice

We were young, seventeen and eighteen,

Time had no beginning or end

We loved passionately, and wildly

Walk tall, hand in hand

Not a care in the world.

It is easy to lose your way

When did the complications set in?

When did we stop fighting back-to-back?

And turn the blades upon us.

Rivers of love and despair

Flowed in and out of the seasons

Then an opportunity in time

Unveils our eyes,

And we saw, we reminisced, we envisaged.

The warmth of friendship, enwrapped us

Let us stand back-to-back you say

We will again fight the foes together,

But I hear the quiver in your voice

And we cry together, yet miles apart.

Time has robbed of us, and the ones who love you.

And my heart is heavy, as I silently wait for your soft voice,

My love, that I will never hear again

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