Benjamin Posted October 26, 2012 Share Posted October 26, 2012 Just lately my whole thoughts are turning to words I wish I'd said: before your out bound ship was churning its white wake to some distant shore. I should have listened to the anchor and chain: the groans, the squeals, the rancour of inferred pain. “This is a time that cares not for a lover's mind!” For without you a bleakness enters my life; a creeping fog to tease and cling like Spanish moss on trees. And all our might-have-beens are centred in its grey form, set to release ghosts of missed opportunities. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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