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I can smell the breeze from the newly opened window

Cold, penetrating

I saw the glittering drops of water fallen to the ground

It reminds me how our world created so wonderfully

Another winter, another season

It will go by and leaves no trace


As I’ve looked outside

The sun rises beneath the clouds

Struggling to share the sunlight

It reminds me of the struggling soul who wants the new beginnings


Another day here it comes

Still remembering your kiss that wakes me up every morning

Your touch that awakens my senses

How can I forget the passion that makes me insane?

The desire that taught me to want more


Another winter, another season

I am still facing the same window

Remembering everything

Leaving no trace, but purely a lesson

Your part of my memories now that won’t hurt me no more

Just a memory of another season… 



16 thoughts on “Memoirs…

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    1. aw, thank you so much, I am glad I am able to convey what is exactly the message of the piece when I wrote it… Your comments brings the magic on me …. God Bless… 🙂

  1. You opened your heart and expelled a lost love in such a very enchantingly beautiful way! I so love the way you write, for every poem seems a song or a conversation with your reader! Glad to embrace your poem this morning…also glad to receive your radiance again…for I have missed your words of light! God bless!

  2. Wow wow! Perfectly written and felt! I could relate it to some things in my own heart, of which I can’t seem to write off as only memories. Just wanting this season to change.
    Nice work

    1. thank you so much my friend, it took me twice or thrice before I post this poem, I changed some part of it several times because of some intense part lol, maybe it’s the season that brought my rambling mind to create this piece but happy finally I am able to share it…

  3. Hi Will,

    A very intense and, may I conjecture, personal post.You have so beautifully meshed a personal memory with the flow of seasons. I am curious though as to why you chose winter……. Could this be because at the core of the memory full of passion as it were, there is a starkness hidden somewhere?


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