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
Poetry by M.J.B. is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License