things that we had.

there is things that we had

which ain’t ‘preciated.

they is monuments erected throughout

twisting pieces of metal

soul

and intention

made for beauty

and forgotten in the rush of things

i walked past all the time

never once holding they images

or committing the portrait of them living in moonlight to memory

and its a crying thing.

or ought to be.

to never be able to remember something so meaningful.

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