“Hey, baby! How are you?”

A voice mail goes,

the second round-

the voice of a long-gone sound.

“I’m good! Nothing to worry about.

I left the town, a fine man found.

3 months passed us,

I put on a snow-like gown

that touched the green-grass ground.

2 kids came, I moved back in town.

All has been good.

Very well-controlled,

Despite ups and downs.”
Until today, when the voice of a long-gone sound

found its ways across the clouds.

A voice mail goes,

the seventh round.

My mask is dropped, the final bow.

“I’ve never been good,

when you’re not around.”

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