The Joy of You

I don’t write anymore

These days I spend my days forgetting

Letting the pretty little words flitter

Through my mind passing away

Like butterflies in the cold

This mind has become a grave

Where I bury the little joys I once had

Where I let the poems fade into nothingness

Forgetting that once upon a time

They too would have felt

The joy of being written

I don’t write anymore

No more diary to keep

No more pretty words

Scribbled in the corners of notebooks

These days I spend my days forgetting

And now I have forgotten the joy of you.

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