It's New year morn
Bright Sunshine melting the cold
The warmth of growing hope
My new eyes eager to behold.
It's New Year's morn
Time to bury the bygones
But I pluck our memories
A few rights and some wrongs.
Therein lie not so dead memories
Of silent moments Talking.
Speeches lonely, silent
And hours and hours of emptying.
I am burying these with care,
All streams of a parched soul
Hereon, they would be memories
Their treasure, I to myself, would dole.
It's new year's morn
Time to bury the bygones
Let me pluck our memories,
Lyrics for my unsung songs.
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