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nostalgia

sifting through countless
vague notions
of what was to come

future ideas
left too long out in the Sun
withered, weathered
about to blow off and away

lost poems
that were never written
left hanging
on the tip of my brain

forgotten memories
dangling from my heart
spouted bragging
echoed out of ear shot

a secret box
long put away
under a mountain of junk

covered lies,
absentminded promises
now coming back to haunt

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