Amber

I still recall in her in the sun
Her curly hair of amber;
Those questions, never passing lips,
That found therefore no answer

There’s times the darkness closes in, and
Times of pure elation;
We search for love, we think, but really
Seek out validation

I let her go and she let me.
The golden days have faded;
For when we never find ourselves,
Our souls grow old
And jaded

Author: Beleaguered Servant

Owen "Beleaguered" Servant (a/k/a Sibelius Russell) writes poetry mostly, with an occasional pause to have a seizure.

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