Ghost Station Park Memorial

Ghost Station Park Memorial

Was she there yesterday?
The oldest houses
Keep the oldest news
When glorious bells sing loud
The younger joys
The nights of fire
The golden fathers clocks
One by one
The dearest faces
The clearest thoughts
They all
Evolve to another line
In a bad poem
But these are also bad days
Hers is the morning
Night is yours

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Night is yours...

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