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randalove

Memory is a tool,
We all use for living.
The body is a tool,
We aught use for loving.

The memory's I hold,
Some shallow, some bold,
They make up the past,
And the love that is lost.

Love I hold,
It sways to and fro,
Like a beatnik in a lab,
Ill be there for you.

Author notes


Written October 10th, 2004

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