Old Classics

Gray skies made the days 

Short and dreary; 

Milling pieces of a stranger; 

An acquaintance from a past life. 

At least that is what it felt like 

Life spent missing him. 

Chasing old classics as distractions 

Trying to forget him. 

Ten years comes flying like a ton of bricks; 

That it would ever it hit her. 

Circling with repeating almost once upon a time

Happy ever-after daydreams; 

Missing him like wearing a sweater 

That was never hers. 

Unsure of the hearts strings claiming 

Pure intentions and Ironic Story Lines. 

Published by Ms. Selective

Traveling Gypse with a Heartfelt Spirit.

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