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Lets relive the golden days,
And skim through our wasted ways,
We can flip past the empty page,
Where a moment should have been saved.

The story untitled, the end let be,
The words erased and placed in me,
In different spaces left to be read,
With other lines left to be said.

And once this book of ours does close,
The illegible writing will be disclosed,
Our names my fall on no cover page,
But the words will be ours all the same,
Merely lived in our own way.