New meetings I must confess,
Are happy little things.
Leaving a sour taste,
For my sour little sins.
Can't help but wonder,
How long it'll be.
Until I turn my head to see,
No one close to me.
I cannot help but be scared,
Of that eventuality.
Of those songs I can never send,
To you; eventually.
And then we smile and talk so pleasant,
But a hollow bridge it'll be,
Rising over the waters,
Of what was once our memories.
And new people we will meet,
But my heart grows ever colder.
This finite friendship fissures deep,
As I grow ever older.
Until new meetings cease.
YOU ARE READING
Often confusing
PoetrySecond part to a muses musings because wattpad has a story limit. . . I mean an enthralling book of stories
