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￭ Echoes of the Past, Voices of the Present: A Comparative Study of 14th and 20th Century Poetry
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2008-08-06 | |
Sheltered safely by the dark,
Through walls of rain and autumn dust,
I come to visit our park
And guard the pieces of the past.
I go around the yellow tree...
It didn't change; as good as new.
It drops a sunny tear for me
The way it used to cry for you.
I check the bench: it's all the same.
It keeps the vibrance of your life
And the inscription of my name
Scribbled by your pocket knife.
I count the stars. They use to leave
Because they never like to wait.
They find it easy to believe
That love is wrong and I am late.
I don't agree. I call them back
For you may come that very night
To watch the sky, and their lack
Will dim the power of the light.
They all return to wait with me.
My love is strong and stars subdue.
So, if you come again, you'll see
That everything remembers you.
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