Tuesday, November 11, 2014

Every day I die a little

Every day I die a little
as her memory fades away
someone plays me a tiny fiddle
as I grapple with my dismay

As my life keeps moving forwards
I risk my sorrows to amass
but I seek solace in this four words
That in its time,"this too shall pass"

Just like Gatsby chasing  Daisy
lost love is a trivial pursuit
It is choosing not to see
and when knowing truth to be mute.

- Marcelo

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