His Sweet Buttercup

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A gentle hello

A brisk goodbye

Lets love, lets not try to hide.

Maybe tomorrow will be the day we find

Our place

Our home

Always hard to know

In a fading life, she must go.

Pity fueling

The growing pain

No soul or angel

Could make her feel the same.

Numbness adds to the on-going shame.

Stony nights

A bitter taste.

Last June, she could remember

The longing in his face

But still she smiled

And presented with grace.

Abandoned, alone

The feeling won’t budge

His sweet sweet buttercup

The hat upon her head; a reminder

To always keep her chin up.

But her eyes, low and grey

They knew, they could see

But no one could say.

She closed her eyes

She reminisced each day.

A gentle hello

A brisk goodbye

Lets love, lets not try to hide

Maybe tomorrow will be the day we find

Us.

riana hornerComment