The past is dead and buried
in our veins, there it flows
to the day our heart stops
beating, there it flows
to the day our mind stops
dreaming of what was,
the past dead and buried
at the root of all our thoughts.
The past is dead and buried
when we are dust and bone.
25.09.2024
#Poem #Poems #Poetry #Verse Verse Poetry Poems Poem
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