I lost you in the days when we
were mired in the weekly grind;
the heart and body set aside
to cultivate (or use) the mind
I lost you when we realized
how much was worn and tattered
from all of the neglectful time
misjudging what had mattered
And now, there is no you to find,
though I might travel far, or near,
for objects in the mirror are
far guiltier than they
appear
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Tagged: Tags Autobiography Love and Loss Memories Poetry Relationships Words
Published by 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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