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When I go in my memory down the road
I see myself, my friends and foes (last word just for rhyming)
I ask myself why can’t I wait
And keep that time into a plate
So that it would rot never… never
I would keep it in deep freeze forever
And take it out when I am sad
So that I won’t be lonely and mad
When I go back the memory lane I feel happy
And don’t feel depress and dumb and crappy
For some special purpose must God have ever thought
That he brought me in this world so I could bloom
It must not be easy to fulfill his reason
And I might need to keep my memories in prison
So I don’t go back to prosperous time
And thinking that time I would never wipe