Holding up the mirror
I see your face.
The acknowledgement of
the fact that you have left
sting me like a needle.
The guilt of holding you
deep in my heart,
is too great for me to bear.
How can I
let go of you?
“Polly, Polly”
you would call me.
My name sparkles at your call,
giving life to me
and my all.
On the verge of insanity
I am, still holding onto
the memory I have with you.
My dear, my love
where are you?
Comments
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