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Worst harvest

Coming home in a town that I don't know,
wandering through the streets near my house.
Stumble on the concrete torn by the flowers growing up,
forshadowed by the street lights.
Wasting away my days,
thinking about these things,
and I'm lost.

You're gone, and I can't find,
the right words to say,
please stay.
Sit on the balcony, thinking so endlessly,
about the sun rise.
Every new day ...

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