Poem 70

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Waiting for Tomorrow

I’ll be glad to know
Nothing concerning our past.
The first day we met,
Of how you knew of me
When you were no more than a shadow
Beside.

That day you leaned on me
Like it was familiar
When it was our first.
That smile
And the way you strutted around,
I will be glad when I stop
Smiling at those thoughts.
They are painful,
Hearing your voice even when you’re not around
And listening for your steps
That will never fall into rhythm with mine.
Oh those eyes, those lips
They are forever with me
And I wish to give them back.
When does moving on begin
And where does hating myself finish.
I will be glad
When the time has finally come
When you and I will sound like nothing
But whispers in the wind
And the us that I knew,
Just lingering into the emptiness
That I hope to leave one day.

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