"You always remember the bad."
the bad
shakes me
to the core
reminding me of
what i went through
before
i marvel at you
remembering everything
the good
the bad
the weather
the clouds
all the minutia
that i
as the poet
am supposed to
marvel in
instead i sketch in
the gray
and paint on
the black
attacking any good
day with my stormy
self
has the past
tainted my vision
forever?
will the pollyanna
in me
be shortlived?
what goes on
in my heart
anyway?
(grey)
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