Poems

Just doesn’t seem right.

Like withering leaves
On a sunny day, something’s
Amiss in your company.
The fault, perhaps, mine
I know not which way to take
And which of you to forsake.

I look for the pros
At the sound of painful rips
Certainly time will mend it?
Bygones return with
A punch. The very reasons
Of gradual estrangement.

Mia

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