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The Question
When night comes slowly creeping in,
the dark I do not fear.
The thoughts that tell me I’m alone,
are what may draw a painful tear.
The memories of better times lock me tight in chains,
binding my heart to the past and in sorrow it remains.
The nights continue to come and go,
and I cannot clear my head.
So lay here frightened and alone,
curled up in my bed.
Time passes by so seamlessly,
but the pain does not diminish.
And I am finally forced to ask myself,
if it’s my story that is finished.
It’s the question I fear most to answer,
not knowing what I’ll say.
So just as I always have,
I’ll have to take it day by day.
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