I passed by that road againA scent remainedOf yours still thereReminding me of why I don’t come this way
For you were preservedUnderneath a trunkOf memoriesOpened only when the tears came,Which was often.
And then you remainedOnly a shadow I longed to keep,With which I covered myself withOn lonely nights when I got no sleep.
But if I passed by that winding road again,Someday you might be standing thereAnd would have forgotten who I am and I wouldWonder why I still showed up to care.
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