Saturday, March 7, 2009

Forgotten

When tears will be dry,
when heart can be cold,
when a name is mentioned,
and everything seems old.
When a presence is gone,
when a voice is silence,
when a smell is familiar,
and one reminiscences.
When words don't matter,
when sadness don't sing,
when the same song is heard,
and nostaglia sting.

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