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By: Foxseaone~ `

 We plant the seeds
 knowing at the end of the summer
 they will bloom, wilt and wither.
 `
 I sit by her bedside
 knowing this is all we have left
 as she rambles on about nothing.
 Which is everything.
 Would anyone notice if I left?
 If I never returned?
 If she did?
 `
 Soon she won’t remember me.
 Our conversations have already disappeared.
 Only the unspoken ones in my head
 swirl unanswered.
 `
 Like the ocean
 ever grasping the shore
 eternal, relentless,
 yet unsure.
 Is anything permanent? Infinite?
 Does hope has a time limit?
 `
 Everything.
 Everyone.
 Eventually
 forgets or is forgotten.
 `
 Later that evening
 I scattered seeds…
 still hopeful.
 `
 C.S. Fox