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Expendable present

People have a common weakness –
overcoming losses
Of other people…
When it is not these losses that they should mourn.
I never had problems moving on from the people of yesterday.
My wrinkled face, diseased body, weary eyes feed me faith,
That I too have climbed mountains, fell in love, fulfilled my dreams,
That I have had a family too,
Or so I hope…
Every day before wetting my bed,
My diligent eyes look for the door to all those memories,
To all of the beautiful life in which I was in,
And they mourn, and wail, in inability,
Of being able to find any memory of the past.

Published in Poetry

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