Cursing Your Left Memories.

Through the window light does shine.
Sits, Myself, here sipping wine-
Thinking of the past: our days.
The breath of you still near Me stays.

'Weak', I know this now you think,
'He probably can't sleep a wink.'
Right you are, for oh how 'He's-
Cursing your left memories!

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COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Tia Maria 12 July 2008

I was thinking much along these lines when I wrote a poem today, also sipping wine :) Good one!

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