To Marcy Howard

I think about, her gentle touch, though, not here, I see her face,
I can smell, that faint, perfume, and dream of, another place,
When happiness, filled the air, and love, was in her eyes,
Now, I’m lost and all alone, the past, has it’s disguise.
I can’t even, close my eyes, all I see, is her,
The present, is so clouded now, my heart, is left unsure,
of how, to bring her back to me, see, she understands,
That, the only expectation, was, I’d forever, be her man.
Even though, the present demands, leave me, feeling dead,
All the pain, is in my heart, it echoes, in my head,
With the pain, comes the thought, what does, the future hold,
Because the love, that we have, for a memory, was sold.
Yet, there is, the enduring thought,,she also, thinks of me,
There’s a certain, degree of happiness, as love, roams free,
This heart, is forever hers, and I know, that her’s, is mine,
And when, we’re re-united, our love, will be just fine.



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