Memories are songs kept in a jukebox
Drop a coin, and, one by one, they turn up
Walking down that road lined with trees
‘You’re so romantic!’ Gushed my best friend
It had been another day, another year of our lives
We wore skirts with floral prints,
And carried grains of hope on our shoulders
Our hands had no imprints of age
Our skin was soft, our eyes had lustre
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