is lost and gone away
when all the hours are grey
the ache that assaults the heart
time is lost and all times die
the well of feeling never dry
the picture in your mind
of things softer, sweeter, then,
it will never come back again
it never was really so
less wine and roses, in truth,
than red in claw and tooth
the taste of the past so tart
on the remembered tongue
when everyone is young
and fortune seemed so kind
except it didn't, without the mist
covering in softness every twist
memory lays us low
the love that remains when the object of love
is lost and gone away
- Kathy, 10/1/16
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