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Africa lifestyle Poetry

Fade

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Nothing compares to speeches made by the eyes
When fine memories tumble into low faint sighs
Now see our glamour fade before the waking morning
With the old tree, where we played sitting and grinning
Mourning the demise of a union which might not be
Or which was but could not be totally seen

By Oke Iroegbu

Finance Graduate, Bibliophile and Bard of Ovim, his hometown. Read more at www.oiroegbu.com/about

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