Poetry

I remember you well

I was cleaning my room When I found it in the dark corner without no sound A golden spoon which I used one afternoon It was full of dust and a bit of rust I blew the dust away The spoon shined It was then I recalled The cake we ate That I had baked And used the spoon To take a bit of the cake that looked like the moon. Written by Srdjan Solkotovic…

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