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Open Waters
Open waters have their sights, but eventually the cloudy days bring the rainy nights.
Like we use to sit on the shoreline, cast our reels and pass our time.
But our time has passed, dear. And so have we.
Like a sycamore thats lost all its leaves.
But in the Spring, those leaves will bloom again,
But us, dear, we’ll never bear that fruit again.
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