Old friend
Do you remember me
I wonder, I truly do
If you remember the moments
that pieced together this conscience
and called out to a shattered night
Old friend
I am sorry for my betrayal
and any pain that may have erupted
from the earth and the arrows
as they buried themselves into your cheek
Old friend
Anger is the most cunning of devils
twisted, black, and desperate
to cloak us all in shadows
playing a game that was lost
the moment venom took root
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2 comments:
a beautiful poem. Thanks for sharing.
oldloveffair.blogspot.com
good one
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