on yet another terrace
another moon mocks
me as i have another smoke
another drink on the rocks
another city another door shut
yet another person who won’t miss
me, wants nothing to do with me.
i’m kinda’ getting used to this
the only grudge i have is
-
a little grievance, just this one -
that when it’s all over
and everything’s said and done
why am i always just a cherished memory,
an inspiration
an interesting experience that’s over ?
not even a person’s status is granted me
leave aside that of a former lover
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