01 / 09 / 2022
My memory unfolds and fades away,
Moments written in lines of poetry are the only feelings that stay.
Pain, sorrow, loss:
A sharp sting glosses into couplets at a cost.
The cost- who we were when we accepted less.
It's easy to forgive; I must confess.
When the memories left with me transmute,
Into hope that there is no substitute
For what I deserve,
The same frequency in which I love and serve.