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Autumns past
Recall the days when autumn leaves drifted slowly to the pavement as we stumbled over our own feet. What happened to the long walks home in the brisk, icy air, when not a worry tumbled into the minds of us children so young?
Swaying of swingsets, flying though mid-air, defying gravity. When did the swing stop swaying for me? When was gravity obeyed? The rustle of pebbles beneath our feet, as we raced through the school yard has now been silenced, as I begin to question the thought of the near and far future alike.
The echos of the narrow hallways has been replaced by constant pondering, stress, and responsibility.
It's nothing but a distant memory, as I have moved on from the childhood I wish to go back to. Overcast has moved in, and filled the sky with grey, as the downpour begins to drench the dusty concrete beneathe me.
The sky will forever be cloudy, the swingsets will sway never again, gravity will be obeyed, the rustle of pebbles will be silent, Hallway echos will be drowned out, and I will forget this lovely memory.
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