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Wednesday, September 23, 2015

Sad Tale

I grow stale of this tale
And with deep regret
I try to forget a kindness,
a confidence
and the care of friend.
Cannot mend this tear in time,
This passionate crime,
The cause of chaos and bitterness and hurt.
We spew blame and toss dirt.
Now that all is lost and nothing is left.
We're bereft, of a friend.
What an awful price to pay
For the stupid games we play.
Israh Sadan
Topic(s) of this poem: love and loss
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