The Old Lover

The surrounding air is cold,

The story of forever is always told,

The woman who has always wanted to hold

Her lovers stark, faithless hands, lies alone, growing old.

Like a stumbling card game she finishes, her cards will fold.

Her beating, lifeless heart keeps waiting, but her brain loves to scold.


Years, months, weeks, days, hours, minutes, seconds-

To her lover, her heart forever beckons.


The End

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