Wednesday, 16 March 2011

Resemblance, remembrance

He sits there on the underground train
Unwittingly turning the knife in my broken heart
My pretence that the wounds ever healed
Now laid bare as a worthless fallacy
Hair, eyes, nose, mouth, all eloquently speaking
Goading me with the memories of loss, of grief
He looks my way, but could never comprehend the pain
As I gaze at the one with the face of the boy I love

****

Love & best wishes to all (and especially to DBJ)
Sammy B

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