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In the end

I will forget you

Like a badly learned lesson

Or a cheap pair of shoes,

The kind words

And the smiles

Merely smudges on the page

Of a diary never read,

All the hope

And best intentions

Like Autumn’s fallen children

Slowly melt beneath my feet,

And I move on

No backward glance

Like a Night Train driving on:

The sleeping car awaits.

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