puisi tentang menghargai kenangan
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Chairs After Guests Depart
The rain drums softly on the tin roof,
each drop a whisper in the night.
I gather chairs, their legs scraping
against the floor—echoes of laughter
that linger still, despite the silence.
In this quiet, I send a prayer,
for those who left, and those who stay.The room feels larger now, emptier,
as if …