As you leave for greener pastures,
Tears flow down the cheeks at your departure.
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The migrating bird flutters its wings,
Over for it, is the season to sing.
The Bentley turns around the corner
Disappears from sight, now and forever.
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I shall miss your nudge and touch,
For our friendship, others could vouch.
But since the ‘Sea of Gold’ is at a distance,
Leave for it right now, this instance.
