Patterns. Soft shadows combining to make static fleeting memories of times now lost. Links once strong now severed with age and corrosive words. Excitement for the slightest smile passes through the cracks showing in aging façades, losing their enthusiasm as the patterns fade.

Gone. Tastes of laughter so succulent and enticing once upon a time now flavoured vanilla. The fast beating heart thrusting lusty thoughts of life and love but a distant memory, a pattern, a shadow now gone. 

Forever. Remnants of who we are remaining like flotsam in an overpopulated river praying for our removal. Young eyes watching, learning then dismissing our entitlement to life, to love – to be. In the end the days are counted till we depart as the days were counted for our entry to this world. A comical circle of shadows painted in a pattern of memories that will fade with time, forever.

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