it really wouldn't have been that hard
now it's tossed like a salad with swiss chard
a bitter taste that is left behind
I think I must've been out of my mind
you, whom I gave the best of care
wreckage created with utmost flair
no over the shoulder, one last look
a very short chapter in a dusty old book
what did you think, how did it feel?
to severe it all with so much zeal
no calls, no letters, not even a text
grace falls short, then disappears
now it's tossed like a salad with swiss chard
a bitter taste that is left behind
I think I must've been out of my mind
you, whom I gave the best of care
wreckage created with utmost flair
no over the shoulder, one last look
a very short chapter in a dusty old book
what did you think, how did it feel?
to severe it all with so much zeal
no calls, no letters, not even a text
grace falls short, then disappears
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License
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