To look into a pool of blue
And see my reflection with out
Would be the death of me for sure.
How long could I endure.
A life with no mystery
Our love mearly a history.
A speck of dust on the clock
Of time.
A hidden message in a poetry rhyme.
A ring with no finger.
O how I would linger.
Clinging, to old photographs.
And walking down our favourite paths.
To stand sweating in the heat of the sun.
And casting not dual shadow.
But one… Well…
It doesn’t bear thinking about
I wrote this poem
To let it all out.


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