Dying Love

By

Patrick Jordan

 

I climb into bed.
Windows open,
I can smell the rain.

Remembering what she said.
Lightning flashes,
brings back the pain.

The soft glow,
reaches in my heart.
And I hear the wind blow.

The rain drops
on the roof up above.
Running onto the ground,
just like our dying love.

6/12/16

 

 

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