The sound of coins
in my pocket has been replaced with the silence of cotton. The fullness in my
heart now a dark hole of despair, and the clarity of my memories an ashen gray.
Time hasn't been
all too kind, yet my tattered boots keep heading forward.Hope is a powerful
potion combined with beliefs in one's self and its all I have left other than
my name that is sometimes softly spoken by someone who once loved me.
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