i m p r i n t

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the day i turn to dust
who will remember the way i walked?
the way i spoke?
or the things i fought for?

when my dust intertwines with the wind
there my bare skin will be thinned
will i be forgotten?

are we just momentarily imprinting
so in the far future
we will be forgotten?

a path
that is all i want to leave behind

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