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Writer's pictureTheresa Baxter

Kiss Goodbye



Each day be the first

As cloud in sky bursts

With the cleansing of rain

And the thunder’s refrain

As rain pours off roof

Like fears shrugged by youth

How quaint is that cheek

And the truth that they seek

For it splits like the cloud

All the hope that’s allowed

To buoy up illusions

Now replaced by confusion

Where did it all go?

The sense that we’re owed

Until stripped and bereft

Scant hope that is left

Make this ache dispel fast

If this day be my last…

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