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Rated: E · Poetry · Relationship · #1273926
Holding hands beneath the apple trees...
A Childhood

Memories.
Of days beneath the apple trees;
Without a cloud. You stole my heart,
And I, the fool, your puppet-boy;
I let you fade.

Do you not remember, sweet?
I do.
A childhood,
Of sun-kissed love and daisy-chains -
Who knew they would ensare you too?
I laughed, you laughed, the daisies laughed,
Like daisies do. But then, the winds began to turn
And with them, they took you.
Do you not remember, sweet?
I do.

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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1273926-A-Childhood