happy days
they grow old..
in this journal
a story is told...
of happy days...
of the ways..
that i miss you so
my heart grows cold
when each moment unfolds..
a story is told..
hot summer nights..
takes me into flight..
i know i must be right..
with all my might
I try,
these memories flood my brain..
like a strong, pouring rain..
and i should be over it by know..
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