Poem -

My Late Love

My Late Love

I miss the love we used to share,
Snoozing whilst he played with my hair,
Kissing my nose to wake me up,
Making tea in my favourite cup.

When we were young we were so free,
Spending whole days being lazy,
Cuddling up on the old blue couch,
Tickling me as I laugh; ‘Ouch!’

When I see young couples in love,
I feel him with me from above,
Memories start to come flooding back,
He’s guided me along this track.

I think about what we once had,
The fact he’s not here makes me sad,
He was my first love. I, his last,
I wish that he had never passed.

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