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Two Graves;a poem

What if I told you that I had two graves. What if I told you that I had one foot in each. What if I told you one was for my dreams and one was for my past. What if I told you I had to bury one. What if I told you I didn’t was to let my dreams die but I really didn’t want to put mounds of dirt on my past; letting the worms decompose it into faded memories. When I can’t remember names well, that’s the worst crime I can commit.

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