Not forgotten – a poem

You strike the chords of my heart,
right from the start.
Then we depart,
I watch the movie in my head,
for all I know you are dead.
Or pregnant with someone else’s child,
how could I have been so blind?
The telltales of fatigue where there,
your distant stare
sadness emanating,
I thought I was emancipating.
But I pushed you away,
led you astray
battling my inner demons.
Taste sour like lemons,
but in those moments of silence,
inward are is my sense,
you return to me as a ghost,
to touch me foremost
the old pump still sings,
they were gloomy springs,
desperate summers,
hard autumns
and deadly winters,
without you.

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