Your concrete,
Your asphalt,
Your railroad ties,
Your long steel rails,
Sad train whistle.
The wind still blows.
Flowers still bloom in their season.
Sky's still blue,
And I still love you.
It doesn't matter.
Summer sun cracks the terra-cotta.
Dandelions pit the old cracked sidewalk.
But this heart beats
In me
Brand new.
And it doesn't matter,
But I still love you.
-jenn
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