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Always, in fall.

In summer I find, my heart freezes. And times become easy. The fall breeze comes in, Picking up leaves and blows the memory all around me. Thawed completely, my heart races to erase the feeling. When it doesn't succeed, it fills with intense heat. And bleeds out, in all the colors of the season. This is my favorite time of year, and he is definitely the reason.

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  • sharon duveau
    October 31
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    the hidden message is cute in this poem =)