Oh, the breeze,
carrying dandelion seeds and borrowed dreams. Brushes me with
sweet memories of what used to be. 
You and me beside that maple tree, sowing seeds of what once was"we".
Sweet and simple turned rotten and criple.
A worm in the apple. 
My thoughts are like shrapnel.
If its not you then its me?
I pray" please breeze blow you back to  me." 
I'll mend the weeds and you'll prun the leaves. 
We can start again by the summer sea. 
You and me underneath a palm tree, soaking in the summer breeze. 



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