Viola Grey

(Feb '73 / NZ)

2nd


Eventually
it all fades,
like prayers written
on dried pages
with yesterday's tears.
Everything fades,
like leaves left scattered
dry and defenseless
against a new days sun.
Eventually
this too will fade.
This memory named love
left out in cold rain
to diminish
to fade.

Submitted: Sunday, June 30, 2013
Edited: Thursday, July 25, 2013

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2/4/12

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