One day you’ll be old
sitting on a porch
looking at life through cloudy eyes
Yellow and grey,
longing away
towards that empty feeling
that your gut portrays
Screams of children playing
and your victim by your side
caressing you,
loving you.
And you’ll think of that year
that spring,
that ended abruptly
with a crescent moon on the rise.
Secrets you should’ve told,
truths that hanged,
this pain I’m feeling
you’ll get it back.
Ten times worse
under the light of regret,
remorse,
going back and forth
finally finding out
what you really wanted
is now
and even before,
forever lost.
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