for love

for love, there is no more—
finished, gone and disappeared;
red paint against a tainted wall
has succumbed to the rusted
melee` brewing inside fists
and sorrow and the melancholy
that awaits us tomorrow
even if, no longer ours

-mr gahon 2/16/15

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About mr gahon

poet... writer... culinarian... i like to work with food that appeals to the senses, write words that taste even better View all posts by mr gahon

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