Vestige

It was quite evident,

he was one of those,

who felt the peculiar,

the humming of the favorite song,

the intoxication of the laughs,

the strength of the hugs,

the times on a busy day,

the guileless nature of the texts,

the reflects in numerous retains,

from words to phrases,

elucidating hopes,

sounds like much more than a crumpled heart;

when the soul breaks,

when the life gets you on all fours,

emotionally,

physically,

clinically,

it does not even make a sound,

it does not even appear on stage.

The wind will blow harder,

he must adjust his sails.

There was that time,

when scraped knees

caused the deepest pains.

Those little cut corners around,

they remind him of the moments,

only for a moment,

leading to

like what they call,

a sudden temporary upsurge of grief,

then it makes him smile,

remembering of the old smiles,

and eventually, collective memories;

incandescent, illuminant,

diversified bottles

of blooming colors,

having minimal justice,

to the unraveled rough eyes.

It was all that had lasted

with him.

It was the vestige.

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