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If I die young

I want my aging mother

to weep,

but don't you ever let her


caress her and

care for her

like her child should,

in the ways

I could no longer.

Every night

please tell her,

since I could not,

that the wind blowing on her cheeks

is my kisses

and the flowers blooming

are my hopes and dreams

and the moon sparkling

through her curtains

is me telling her


and tell her

every new day

is me telling her

I love her.

cherish her,

help her move on,

but never let her

forget about me.

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