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The heart will never grow so old, That it will cease to break; Not reserved for youth alone, That old, familiar ache. For there is no monopoly, On pain from deep within; It knows no age nor boundaries, When the heart remembers when. Maybe in a familiar song, A distant melody; The misty scent of sweet perfume, Will bring back memories. The heart will never grow so old, That passion has died and gone; Seasoned by the passing years, The memory lingers on. The heart will never cease to break, From some distant memory; The heart will never cease to love, Until it ceases to be. Allison Chambers Coxsey ©2002
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