Poetry

J.

Once in a while,
I think about how you smile,
From 30,000 miles, I linger onto,
the memories we filed.
Love came, but quickly gone,
leaving sorrow between us, all season long.

Sometimes I wonder,
if you ever felt the same,
or was it just me,
dreaming of your name.
To the moon I sing, the only song we have,
is this what’s left, and all there is to bring?

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