When I Return

When I return,
Would I still remember the scents of the flowers in my garden?
How they danced in the winds and mingled with the bees…

When I return,
Could my piano still weave a melody?
Or would it croak a tragedy?

When I return,
Would I see my friends’ faces, and not recognize them?
Passing them by, their names not remembered, their faces forgotten?

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