A short poem written in another one of those days, when there was plenty of time spent doing nothing.
When Time Runs Free
Between here and there, fond memories dwell
Not one, but many, causing thoughts to swell
Each by itself, while fickle, randomly passing
On through the years, with every one amassing
Hundreds of neighbors, some happy, some sad
Stamped there forever, for most, I am glad
When the mind is at rest, I’m sure you’ll agree
Memories are a treasure, when time runs free
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