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When you come

When you come to me, unbidden,
Beckoning me
To long-ago rooms,
Where memories lie.

Offering me, as to a child, an attic,
Gatherings of days too few.
Baubles of stolen kisses.
Trinkets of borrowed loves.
Trunks of secret words,

I CRY.

Maya Angelou

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    There are 10 comments, add yours!

    • # Jay

      I can almost hear Ms. Angelou reciting that poem. This is a nice post.

      2011.09.19 Edited Reply Cancel

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