The impression is still intact

Of the footprints hastily gone

The loathsome sorcery of memories attract

Along with attempts of wording the breaths long drawn

 

Each day, as newer masks ornament

The soothing, muffled cries, hide deeper

And while the usual injustices offend

Your wrongs, once shunned, again embitter

 

The fallen leaves, the breeze too chilly

Walking barefoot on the thorns lure

Yet echoes of laughter, scents of joy soaring freely

Still nurture hopes of affection, of cure

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