The Morning Brings Such Joy and Pain
Yearning for the forgotten touch.
Take back what was given.
In order to give it again.
Breathing the cold morning air.
The fresh dew drops form.
Hanging from flower petals.
the reflections hold magic.
Bringing the future to the present.
The present to the past, and the past.
The past turns to forgotten memories.
The sun comes out, the dew drops fade.
Then the pain returns.
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