Sunday, August 22, 2010

As I sit

Long ago I dealt in sorrow,

Task was clear easy to follow,

The day grows gray the longer I stay,

How strange I think of her still,

Knew so little yet my mind won't relent,

Take for granted all the time I spent,

Her thoughts are whispers evermore,

Dwell on wrongs or rights that soar,

The memory leaves me in a perilous state,

As if I can rekindle the sting of late,

Why must I sit in contemplation,

I ask the meaning of brief elation,

Ever so fleeting but I will never stop feeling

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