(1) You Haven't Hurt Me Poem by Uriah Hamilton

I've been in a positive frenzy
remembering your dark eyes
and your wet hair in the summer evening rain.

I'd like to say you haven't hurt me,
I can dust myself off and remain the same;
but why should I try to convince myself
of half truths and flagrant lies?

If goodbye and separation
were Mozart and Beethoven,
I'd be a master musician
in the London Philharmonic Orchestra.
If loneliness were a virtue, dear lady,
you've rendered me a saint.

In ancient parties I thought I long forgot,
I saw your girlfriends kiss your hands.
Now, I want nothing more than
to be one of them.

5: 14AM 11-26-2016