It is you again
on the same place,
only there are less of them
to expect you.
is getting smaller, too.
While they remain silent
with their eyes made of glass,
monotonous rain of forgiveness
is washing you off
all their memories.
As no one
can give more
than one has.
Vida Nenadic's Other Poems
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Comments about this poem (AGAIN by Vida Nenadic )
The Road Not Taken
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