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Old Drafty Windows
As I sit alone,
Next to an old drafty window,
I stare out, looking off into the distance.
My breath fogs the window and a cool, crisp breeze sweeps across my face.
The coolness of the air holding my face in its hands sparks the memories of us back into mind.
What was before just a gray dampened landscape,
Has now blossomed into vivid color, painting the memories of us on a one of a kind canvas.
Each memory dances in front of me, retelling the story of how great it used to be.
I can see us laughing at everything, even the things that weren’t always funny,
Playing basketball, you let me win just like every other game,
Driving like maniacs on back roads because no one was around to stop us.
I can see us going to baseball games just because we could,
You tickling me almost to tears just to see me smile,
Playing the game of “torch” even when no one else did.
I can see us playing football, when everyone was surprised I could throw,
Stealing your sweatshirt when I was cold,
Loving every single moment shared together.
Now, as I sit alone,
Next to an old drafty window,
I stare out, looking at the memories dancing along the newly painted horizon.
A door slams from behind.
The window is still fogged and the wind is still on my face,
But the memories are gone.
Kept in safe keeping for another day.
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About a long lost friend