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The Poems

I want you to remember me with every sunset,

Because the days are all chirpy and warm,

It’s the cold night that brings all the thoughts alive.

Don’t ask me if I’ve slept well,

I’ve not.

The poems have kept me awake.

Each one I’ve ever written,

And the ones that are forming in my mind,

Ready to be rhymed in the darkness of my room,

Spilling everything from love to heartbreak,

Unready to be published,

For anyone to read.

Just promise me you’ll remember me,

Tell me I’m not just another day to be forgotten with dusk,

And the poems are not just metaphors,

To relate to.

Then the nights which lead to the mornings,

But what I really hope is you’re there to greet the sunset,

By the ocean as I draft,

Another poem for eternity.

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