I threw it under the morning bus
at plain sight of the passing people
to see how it looks, so feeble
after surviving the two of us.
Bruised, smashed, covered in blood,
proof that my love has no luck,
a cycle where I might be stuck -
all I can do now is to nod.
Afterwards, I might write you a song
about what it were and could have been -
life didn't have to be so mean
as to end this in a verse of "so long".
22/11/2017
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