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Teresa's W-I-P's - Funeral

How precious, frail, and tender things are -
How they shatter in your hand,
And as you walk along the beach
These broken dreams become the sand.

How tiny and fragile and delicate,
Crumpled in your palm,
Stiff and cold today
What yesterday saw alive an warm.

And thus the beach sways, as your love for me -
In and out to the open sea.
But the beach's love will never be,
For it knows not the strength of me.

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