no longer on the horizon
not even a small speck
I figured, you had moved on
marrying wealth, thinking seldom of
memories buried in sand
it was best for both
I wanted what you wouldn't give
who knows what you longed for
but, every once in awhile
you breach, encroaching the memories
better left for dead
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Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License