I stop sometimes on Second Street

There by the pet shop and the bank

I don’t know why that spot punches me

Like the sudden falling of memory

But every time I remember you there


My shoes are worn now

The wrinkles of life

Have taken mine away

Without me

I forget all the time

Each moment, once vivid, is gone

All those people I once shared myself with

Don’t matter anymore

Like you


But life’s not empty

There’s always little things to fill it

Like coffee with a casual friend

Or television on the weekend

But now and then, like long-waiting poison

You haunt me

The passion


The End

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