There are evenings
when sorrow arrives without warning,
soft as a shadow,
quiet as a leaf falling
in an empty room.
It touches the surface of my heart,
and something inside me opens.
something inside me opens
There are evenings
when sorrow arrives without warning,
soft as a shadow,
quiet as a leaf falling
in an empty room.
It touches the surface of my heart,
and something inside me opens.
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