I never said I would
ever write a poem
about us
writing about love
can’t have been
about us
those poems I never wrote
and never will write
about us
are like the tears
we’ve never shed
as they weren’t
about us
On the train back to the old place unsure if any memory is left there Surely there must be an old cigarette burn hissing embers fusing ...
No comments:
Post a Comment
Avis sur la chose en question
Feedback on the thing in question