Through Young Eyes

A score it’s been, not the winning type

A timeless memory, so seemingly ripe

A dimple appears as the images comes in

It fades for a short time to reappear again

A reminder of innocence, a day without grief

To leave it behind creates treasured belief

I cannot deny it, I long for the new

A day that once was, belongs to a few

I engage the precious, the needy, the weak

For this memory I know gives life to the bleak

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