Your last journey, dear, on my shoulders now,
Is unlike you, sad, quiet and peaceful
Makes me really wonder why and how
Time can be so hasty and forgetful.
Or maybe I wasn’t really careful,
To withhold the times, we sat by the lake,
And just stuffed in a stolen home-baked cake,
The times when we ran a race to the fair.
I wish I knew the rude turns time could take
I wish I knew when breath would become air!
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