Every person, a lifetime

How many days belong to you

In the days when you were free

I will write a few poems of my own

Every person, every day

How long is it used as a memory

Crying while struggling to indulge in memories

Or fall into happy bliss

A gust of wind and sand deviated from the familiar trajectory

A small poem will set off a few memories

Stranded in the long river of years -

Blue, it's your secret

Purple, that's my dream

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