A little away from the now dead past
Lies a garden of neverends –
Little things like love lives there
And so do little memories of life.
Friends of both past and present –
Still loved a lot or maybe not;
Food and places that formed
The joys without bounds.
Foods and places that joy the heart,
The first crush, a love for the moon
So sit many of my days in that garden
So sit many of my noon.
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