There is nothing left 
There is nothing left.
Everything was washed away by the first autumn rain.
Promises and oaths.
Hopes and denials.
Unborn children.
The smell of your skin.
The shine of your hair.
Memories of your eyes.
Sleepless nights.
That’s why I don’t like the rain.
Neither memory.
Neither promises.
Nor hope.
There is nothing left.
Nothing we loved.
Nothing we wanted.
Everything was washed away by the first autumn rain.
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