A Thousand The Blend Poem by Ronnie Gardner

Pecular rain paints itself against my window in an attempt to reach my inner recesses, bittersweet memories of a particular thousand when she really was the one. I break into song now but now its more of a moan, a topic that once was hot. I love her and now I know she loves me back but is unwilling to accept who else I love. The funny thing is I feel exactly the same. Each woman I have loved has been a exercise in the less than mundane but there's something else about this Dame. She is my perfect friend, she is my birth again, she is the thousand I sought and she is my perfect blend. She houses every glisten of the eye and every touch of the cheek. When she speaks she speaks only to me. And when the anger swells in me for letting her go yesterday, I hear the rain. The peculiar rain that ends in my pain.