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I walked past this bench every single night, Never once feeling lonely or out of place. Yet somehow, these past few days, Each time I pass, my heart aches with the sorrow of lost love. Perhaps because I still see us there, Sitting side by side on that bench—the us we used to be, Knowing all too well that we're no longer the same, Changed forever by the choices we made. So I walk past with my eyes turned away, While my heart overflows with memories that still burn.
Still better in french
Still better in french
