White dresses moving gently in the breeze,
Black suits and walking canes,
Children playing games under the sun,
Families sitting on blankets having fun,
While carriages roll on cobbled streets.
Wooden benches by a gentle stream,
Beneath the spreading oak trees,
Where people come to gather rest,
After hard days of doing their best,
Surrounded bye sounds of busy streets.
The years have passed along with people,
For the park has seen much brighter days,
There are elderly couples holding withered hands,
Share the warmth of love from past plans,
Seeing fewer friends with each passing day.
Today a stranger walks beneath the trees,
Feeling forgotten hearts of long ago,
Names remembered upon distant stones,
Yet voices are heard where spirits roam,
For love is the unending fire of life.
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