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Rated: E · Poetry · Arts · #937257
poem from prompts
Through the clarity of insanity
Space ceases to be the "last frontier."
We gaze at photographs of time gone by
through apple-colored glasses raised to
the copper haze of memory.
The warmth of these remembrances,
sweeter than honey or cheesecake
cant be carried away on the back of an ant
or flee like shadows before a lantern.
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