I don’t know what it’s like,
Something’s always missing.
The way you used to see me is lost;
Not you, that’s me.
Close sometimes to normal,
Close sometimes to right.
But…only close.
I don’t know what it’s like,
Something’s always missing.
The way you used to see me is lost;
Not you, that’s me.
Close sometimes to normal,
Close sometimes to right.
But…only close.
I’ve read your recent poems. I feel it’s important for me to acknowledge that I hear the pain of loss in them.
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Thanks Brian for that acknowledgement, really appreciate you taking the time to read them. Lost is familiar to me, sometimes too much but writing helps and the words just seem to pour right out…take care
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