Fork in The Bench 

I saw you again sitting at the bench that I run by every other afternoon
You made the finger motion for me to come near 

Excited by nostalgia I made it towards your way 

But the wind brushed with your Sixer’s blazer in a certain way to reveal the needle wrapped in your Grandfather’s red handkerchief 

I held my head back from shaking so I didn’t bring down your spirit

 It hurt inside myself but I just kept running 

And at this point I no longer blamed myself 

These run’s every other afternoon were no longer about me running from my past 

I was now running through it 

 To a better future 

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