In Vain

Sara by alphaNicobaralpha

Smell of farts for company
no-one wants to be with me.
Despite the cold, I keep my mind open
and stop it from being frozen
into a fish finger packet. I clean
assiduously, I wear warm clothes
but still, the chill gets through.
I draw, I write, nothing less
is good enough because. A schism of memory
makes you real. My words make you appear
and your name bring the pain that goes with it.
Sara, Sara, Sara with the hair so golden. Did I
drop my tears upon your breast or on your friends?
Now the years have put distance between us
and as i hear people cuss
I still want to be with you.
I think I read you moved away to London or abroad.
This town wasn’t big enough for you, or your ideas.
Now the same paths do not echo with your step only fools gold
is discovered lying in heaps in the purple rain.
As I stumble on carrying a flag for you
Is my love in vain?
Is the dragon slain?
Is my love in vain?

© 2017 Andrew Watkins

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