Like seagulls fleeting the clear blue seas
I seem to be awash with paranoia
Petrified , post Pompeii, awaiting sleep
Synonyms or metaphors, are just pragmatic
Tones and demeanor are seldom seen
In verses that I spin, day in, day out
They seem to drift towards your neglect
Maybe the time could be turned, a tide too
Another instance, another dimension, another us
Yet The other me would be as profound
To love and be rejected, as right now
So I raise my glass, blow a kiss in your name, Spill some wine, Stain my shirt,
A few blotches, indeed they would stay
Serving so well to forever remind
The day I knew, I can only love and fail
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