TEMPLATE

Staring uphill

At 6 million tomorrows,

The mountain we climb

Is only stones of sorrow…

There is still a cliff that begs

To be conquered,

Upon its rock

Is etched the promise

“If you leap,

I will follow.”

By the way, the flowers don’t smell sweet anymore.

My heart doesn’t jump, it flops to the floor…

When I remember

You’ll never be

Knocking down my door.

Why do they ask me

What I’m grieving for?

It’s your love, I can’t reach it

Anymore.

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