Memories and un-forgiven promises
are graffiti drawn like abandoned conclusions
clinging to and leering from the shiny bricks
of yesterday’s youth.
As I spill my feelings like cold tea
into your clean sink
I feel sorrow for the mess
but don’t think to cleanse it.
We could have both died young
together, beautiful, exciting
with much love still to make.
Did you think me special, as I you?
I wonder.
© Graham Sherwood 2009
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