A pocket that brims with memories and times, of your life and my life, of tales intertwined. A file full of memories suffused with deeds, some hidden, forgotten, swept away with the breeze. A pocket that’s dusty that hides the dark parts, of things left undone, regrets and hurt hearts. A nook crammed with joy and guffaw and play, of raucous rambunction and carried away. A place full of colour and wishes and dreams, of light and hope and full to the seams. My pocket, my tale, my play, my song, core and my centre, my heart, live on.
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