Memories are cages
Trapping our souls,
Holding on to our ages
And the people old and bold.
Those that survive,
We’ll be laughing ’til there are tears;
Those that didn’t,
They’ll be part of a past so queer.
Writings of a Phobophobe.
Memories are cages
Trapping our souls,
Holding on to our ages
And the people old and bold.
Those that survive,
We’ll be laughing ’til there are tears;
Those that didn’t,
They’ll be part of a past so queer.
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