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Aug 4
Losing It

Aug 4 2025

It keeps you present.  
Defines my soul.
Yet fragile, bent.


Belongs to me.
Shone socially.
Aging seas.



One morning stormy.
Next warmly day lit
Not for me.


Change leaves you behind.
Careless words don’t lie
Simply grind me,
Last one dies
Written by
BTW
44
   Dency
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